It's Mutual 2 and 3
by breannatala
Summary: Life seemed good... but Harry never considered his future, and as the Voices try to control him, he tries to keep up, and Voldemort's attacks always looming, will the end be good enough to be worth all that he must give up? STORY GROWS DARKER
1. 2: A Place of my Own

**A/N: This story won't make any sense unless you've read It's Mutual 1. This is heading into Harry's Seventh year at Hogwarts. It is leaving off about a week after the first story left off.**

**Note: This isn't going to be a Harry(son) Severus(father) centered fic. That was what It's Mutual 1 was for. There _will _be a lot of interaction between the two, but that that isn't the focus of this story. This year, it's preparing Harry for the war. (one of the reasons that this is a different story).**

**Anyway, the idea I had for It's Mutual being a two-parter, It's not. It's going to be, for sure, a three-parter. The third story will be a year after Harry's graduation from Hogwarts. I'm still deciding whether I'll have a fourth part, but I'm thinking I will (because of the events I have planned for the third part). I'd tell you now, but that would end up telling you what's going to happen!**

**Anyway, parts 2, 3 and 4 will be about 10-20 chapters each. I'm still outlining 'em.**

**Thanks to everyone who has been reading this far! I wasn't going to start putting this up for a week or two, but what the house looks like just popped into my head, and I had to. I do not know when the next chapter will come up. Within two weeks, for sure.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 1 - A Place of my Own**

"Well?"

"Well, what, Harry?" Severus asked flatly.

"Did they finish with the wards?"

"On the manor, they did. The wards on Spinner's End will be finished by this evening, and will be set up on floo tomorrow."

"Spinner's End? Why do you bother warding that? I thought the Death Eaters know where it is!"

"They do. Or rather, they did. To anyone who doesn't know the wards, it is now a bare patch of land."

"Wouldn't they figure there is something there, then? Since there _was_ something there?"

"The local muggle newspaper reported a fire," Severus said plainly. "Don't worry, Harry. Anyway, we'll just be stopping by Spinner's End. There, too, are bad memories."

"Yeah, there would be with Death Eaters going and out of the place."

"That is not what I meant. I grew up on Spinner's End."

"Wait, what? I thought you inherited the Manor from your mother . . . wouldn't . . ."

"I had a father, too, Harry."

"Er . . . of course. It's just, Spinner's End sounds . . . not nice. Why would you live there if you had a manor?"

"If I had any choice, I would have lived in the manor," Severus replied flatly, indicating the end of that particular conversation. Harry was quiet for a few minutes before he started up again, to Severus' annoyance.

"Well, can we go?"

"Now?"

"Well . . . yeah. Why not? You're not doing anything, I'm not doing anything . . ."

"You could be studying." Harry glared at his father.

"Severus, summer just started. I want to see the manor," Harry whined.

"You know, I'm beginning to think I spoil you."

"Spoil me? Yeah, sure. You work me to death some days!"

"Perhaps I should start 'working you to death' more often. All right, let's go."

"Yes! Hey, if it's in good enough condition, could we stay there instead of here?"

"When it's cleaned up."

"Does that mean I get my own room?"

"Harry, you are acting like a toddler. Of course, you get your own room, you dunderhead. What do you think I'd do? Shove you in a closet?" he sneered.

"Well, you wouldn't be the first," Harry said, his good mood slightly diminished. Not enough to get him to stay still, though. "How are we getting there?"

"It is connected through the floo, from here and Hogwarts." Harry was at the fireplace by the time he said the word "connected", floo powder in his hand. He looked at Severus with expectance, and Severus sighed. "Snape Manor."

Harry repeated this, stepping into the floo. When he arrived at the manor, Harry couldn't tell what was worse: the ash from the floo or the dust in whatever room he just entered.

"Ew," he said as Severus ran into him.

"You could have at least moved," grumbled Severus.

"I was afraid of being attacked by dust bunnies," Harry said with a serious face, earning a glare from his father. "It's disgusting."

"What did you expect? Magic hasn't been used here in a very long time. We . . ."

"Well, let's get cleaning! Wait, I'm not supposed to use magic," Harry grumbled. Severus murmured a charm that rid the room of the extremely thick dust. "No fair."

"Open all the windows, I'll take care of the dust," Severus said, then disappeared through a door to the right. Harry gladly opened the windows. The entire room smelled like . . . well, like . . . _something_ that died. Before leaving the room, Harry examined the stone-floored room.

In the center of the room was a couch, two love seats, and two chairs arranged around a coffee table. Afraid of what he might encounter, Harry lifted the seat cushion on one of the chairs and was grateful that nothing attacked him. He checked under the other cushions just in case.

There was an empty bookshelf on the wall across from the fireplace, and a desk right next to the bookshelf. Luckily, there was nothing but a few spiders in the desk. Harry was tempted to take the spiders and put them outside, but he didn't know if Severus could use them for potions or something, so he left them.

Exiting through the door that Severus did before, Harry ended up in the kitchen. He had to admit, it was a pretty decent kitchen. After opening the windows, Harry started opening cupboards and drawers, and was disappointed to find nothing but more spiders in them. Harry told himself that he shouldn't have expected it to be filled when no one had lived here for years.

Harry was starting to wonder where all the little, annoying, magical pests were. Headquarters had loads of them, even still. The only living things that seemed to be in this house were spiders. Not that Harry was complaining, but he did find it weird. After walking around the dining table (which could easily fit ten people), Harry went through another door on the opposite side of the room.

Here was stairs and a corridor. Automatically, Harry went to the cupboard under the stairs and opened it. Looking in, he noticed it was slightly larger than the one that he considered his bedroom for ten years.

"How long does it take to open a few windows? You have what, two rooms done?" Severus came up behind him and asked. "And what are you doing?" Harry blushed.

"I don't know. And I was just looking around," Harry said defensively.

"You'll have time to look around later. Right now, the windows need to be opened." Harry grudgingly complied, but he did take a good look at the bedrooms. He assumed the one with all the boxes of books and things was Severus' room. One of the rooms really caught his eye.

The floor in this room was stone, as was most of the house. It was on the second floor in the corner, so one of the windows was facing the back of the house, and one of the windows was facing the side. Both windows were seat windows. The bed, which seemed to be connected to the wall, was several feet off the floor, and there was a built in step ladder. There wasn't a closet, but there was a big wardrobe and dresser. In addition to that, there was a bookshelf and a desk.

Wanting to ask Severus about the room, Harry quickly opened all the windows on the second and third floors and the attic. The attic freaked Harry out slightly; Severus obviously didn't think to get rid of the dust for some reason. Once cleaned up, it wouldn't really look like an attic.

Back on the ground floor, Harry found Severus in the kitchen, running the water.

"Severus . . ."

"You found a room you like," Severus finished.

"Well, yeah. How did you know?"

"Because it does not take half an hour to open the windows in this house."

"Well, you never know. It is kind of big."

"Big? It is roughly the same size as headquarters."

"Well, it's the biggest house I've ever been in."

"Pureblood standards, this is small."

"Oh. Well, weren't the Blacks . . ."

"Yes, but there was more than one Black household at one point."

"Oh. Well, do you want to know which . . ."

"Let me guess. It the corner room on the second floor."

"Again, how did you know?"

"If I was your age, it is the room I'd choose."

"Was the room with all the boxes in it yours?"

"Yes. They are my belongings that I had at Spinner's End."

"That's all you had?"

"Most of my belongings stayed at Hogwarts."

"Oh. So I can have the room?"

"Of course," replied Severus, starting to get a little irritated.

"Sorry. I've never had my own room before. It's kind of exciting."

"I see. I took care of the spiders while you were fooling around. Thankfully, we don't have to worry about any magical pests . . ."

"Yeah, why is that?"

"You should know that Harry. You are going to be in seventh year."

"Er . . . because there isn't enough magical energy for the pests to survive on?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Now, back to what I was saying. With all the dust and spiders gone, all we really need to do is . . . well, set things up. We need to make a list of what we need to buy."

Three hours later, they had a long list of what they needed. The list included kitchenware, new curtains, bed sheets . . . pretty much everything.

"We'll visit Hogsmede tomorrow," Severus said before Harry could start asking the annoying questions again.

"Okay. Would Spinner's End be finished?" Harry asked. Severus checked the time.

"Yes. We'll take a quick stop there, but then we are going back to headquarters. There is a meeting tonight."

"Okay."

Harry decided he didn't like Spinner's End very much, but it gave him an idea. Before they left, Harry told it to Severus, who, after some thought, said it's put it past the Order at the meeting that night.

Both wizards arrived, very happy, to a headquarters full of people.


	2. 2: Summer DA

**A/N: Okay, I know I said I'd have the chapter up within two weeks, but I lied. Sorry, it wasn't on purpose. Finals are coming up, and my professors are piling on the projects. **

**This chapter is kind of short. Not as short as the first one, but still kind of short. Hopefully, it won't be the case for next semester. Anyway, summer's coming up quickly (only one more week, then finals! Ah!), so hopefully between working and such, I'll have more time to write. **

**Thanks to: ****ngh-is-hot****spiritualwitch****Dumbledore-The-Phoenix****Harrysmate****Spiorad****Kimi kimz****Texas Dragon****XxMrs.PadfootxX****ancient midnight****, Romulus, Ginvera, ****Morgaine00000016****dartanian****Selene Malfoy Lupin****hope99****Intergalactic smart-ass****Kelei****Moony's-Wolf****SensiblyTainted****lav-katie-hp****Drunken Boxer****, prettyprincess, ****VickiWeasley****Avallyn Black****Crystal Cove****, and ****SailorHecate**** for the nice comments and constructive criticism. **

**Oh, yeah. I have a new oneshot up: ****Reluctant Alliance, Revenge Assumed****. It's probably my favorite I've written so far. Sad ending, though. Go check it out!**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 2 - Summer D.A.**

"Is there anything else that needs to be brought up?" Dumbledore asked, looking around the room. It had been a very long meeting, and everyone was just waiting to go back home. Voldemort had been quiet, publicly, for awhile, but the information that the spies were bringing in, although they were not in Voldemort's inner circle, had proof of a large ambush happening soon.

"I have something, Headmaster," Severus said, and a silent groan filled the room, causing Severus to smirk. Since he was currently living at headquarters, he was in no hurry to leave. He continued when Albus nodded. "Harry thought it might be beneficial to continue the D.A. during the summer for the more trusted members."

"It would be. We could never be too prepared," Albus agreed, thoughtful. "There would be a few issues that need to be taken care of. First, a place for the children to learn."

"My home on Spinner's End would be ideal with the new wards," Severus interrupted.

"What about the law of underage magic?" someone spoke up.

"That was the next conflict. I will talk with Minister Drima about it. His children are activity involved in the D.A., and I have no doubt that he will be willing to allow for it. The next issue would be of who we could trust enough to be involved. Severus?"

"Yes?"

"Since you and Harry know the members the best, I want you two to go over who should be involved. You were thinking about the older members?"

"Most likely. There are a few exceptional younger students that might be able to handle it. When do you want a list by?"

"Next week's meeting. That should give me enough time to convince anyone who needs to know," Albus said, and Severus nodded. "But talking about Harry brings up one more topic," he continued, and almost everyone in the room _did_ groan out loud.

"Tough it out! Everything that needs to be talked about, should be talked about immediately," grumbled Mad-Eye. The members in the room would have glared at him, but most were scared of him.

"As you all probably know, Harry is turning seventeen this summer. By tradition, we have never initiated anyone unless they have finished Hogwarts, but I feel an exception should be made this time," Dumbledore continued, ignoring the groans.

"He's too young!" several people shouted.

"I agree, Headmaster," Severus said. "He is very talented, and has a lot of luck when it comes to saving people, but he is too young to actively joining the war," Severus argued, despite the fact that he knew Harry was eager to join.

"He won't be. I actually have another idea. Not many of you know, and he probably doesn't want many to know, but I feel that this information could help persuade you. The Sorting Hat originally wanted Harry in Slytherin . . ." mumbles around the room " . . . but many of you have commented that he is a picture perfect Gryffindor. The more I have gotten to know Harry, I see how much of a Slytherin he truly is, which isn't a surprise knowing who his father is. He is a very perceptual young man.

"What I would like Harry to do will start at the beginning of the school year. I believe he is capable of befriending anyone he sets his mind to. He would be able to . . ."

"You want him to spy on the student body," Severus accused.

"Simply put, yes."

"That would be dangerous. This would only put him in more danger," Minerva commented.

"Slightly. He is very capable of getting himself out of danger when needed, though. Also, since he is known to be friendly to anyone who doesn't attack him, it will be easier for him to befriend those of other houses. Minerva and I have talked about it, and after talking to several of our staff members . . ."

"You didn't talk to me," Severus accused.

"I felt your opinion would have been biased, Severus. And many believe that Harry Potter should be Head Boy next year."

"He wasn't even a prefect," somebody stated. "Is that allowed?"

"It is, actually. Although it does not happen often, it does happen. Much can change over the course of two years, people change. It was preferred practice, although not common, among many of the past Headmasters and Headmistresses."

"Why would that be preferable?"

"Because then we don't have to appoint a new 7th year prefect. Head Boy and Girl responsibilities are different from prefect responsibilities in many ways. 7th year prefects are expected to know everything about their jobs, much more than someone who is new to the job. Having a new 7th year prefect would only set them back," Minerva explained. Most people nodded in understanding. Severus just sulked a little. Being a Head of House meant that he had say in who the Head Boy and Girl would be, and Albus didn't even talk to him about it. Not that he didn't want his son to be Head Boy.

"So he would be using his position as Head Boy to spy on the students? Isn't that betraying the trust of those students?"

"I have no doubt that Harry would refuse to do that. There are many layers to this. First, Harry, being head of the D.A., being the Boy-Who-Lived, and a 'hero' many times out, has a lot of influence among his peers, whether he believes he does or not. A younger child of a Death Eater who doesn't want to become one themselves might look for guidance," Albus put up his hand to stop Severus from interrupting. "It is always easier for a child to talk to someone closer to their age. That is one of the reasons we have a Head Boy and Girl.

"Two, it is known that Voldemort wants to integrate more spies into the Order. With Harry as Head Boy, he will know more the student population personally than most of us. He will be able to tell us is he thinks a new member is suspicious."

Everyone was silent for awhile. Everything that Dumbledore said was true, but Harry was still in school.

"How about we think about it, then vote later. I do believe that everyone is anxious to leave." Everyone consented, and the meeting was adjourned. Severus started upstairs only to find Harry waiting on the stairs.

"Well? What did they say?"

"Albus needs to talk to the Minister before anything can be finalized, but he believes it to be a good idea. We need to go through the current members and decide who should come by the next meeting."

"Great! I actually started working on a list. I'm going to bed now, though. Talk to you about it tomorrow?" Harry asked, excited.

"Yes," Severus sighed. "Good night, Harry."

"Night, Severus."

* * *

Albus flooed to the Ministry. He had an appointment with Minister Drima in a half an hour as was determined not to be late. Because of events lately, he had been late to several meetings this week.

"Hello, I have a meeting with the Minster," Albus said when he reached the secretary's desk.

"Name?" the man asked without looking up.

"Albus Dumbledore," he gave his name. The man looked up quickly.

"Professor Dumbledore! It's been awhile since I've seen you. How have you been?"

"Hello, Mr. Jones. I have been better in my years, but nonetheless, I am good. And how about you? Working in the Ministry now, I see."

"Yes. Minister Drima wanted more trustworthy people working here now. The goblins at Gringotts recommended me."

"Good, good," Albus said. Jones was always bragging, but he never bragged about anything that wasn't true.

"The Minister should be out to see you in a few minutes, if you'll take a seat, please?" Jones stated, then went back to what seemed to be important paperwork on the desk. Albus walked over to the chairs that lined the room's walls, and was about to conjure up a more comfortable chair when Drima came out of the office behind a man that Albus didn't recognize. The man left, and Drima went up to Albus.

"Headmaster, it is good to see you. Now, let's go to my office," he said, leading the way. In the office, Albus did conjure up a softer chair and sat down. "What is it that is so important?"

"Ah, yes. I do believe you have heard of the defense group at Hogwarts called the D.A.?"

"Of course! Both of my children are involved, and enjoy it immensely. Nothing is wrong, I hope?"

"No, nothing at all. Actually, I felt that it might be useful to continue it for some of the older members during the summer, what with Voldemort becoming more powerful."

"I see," replied the Minister, a little less enthusiastic than before. "As much as I agree with the children learning more defense, wouldn't it be dangerous for them to group during the summer? Where would be meet? Hogwarts?"

"Not during the summer, no, not Hogwarts. Actually, we have recently warded a house. Very safe, and protected under the Fidelius Charm."

"Who is the Secret Keeper?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you that. You understand, I hope?"

"Of course. Who will be these students involved?"

"I'm not sure, exactly. Your children, of course. Mr. Snape and Mr. Potter-Snape will have a list in a week, if not sooner. They are in charge of the group."

"So it will be supervised."

"Of course! It would be very dangerous, otherwise," Albus commented, a twinkle in his eye. There will be at least one other Order member there for every meeting."

"So, if I agree, what will you need?"

"Just a waiver of the underage magic for the location of the house," Albus said lightly. "Security will be taken care of by the Order."

"This is just for defense? You will not be training the children to fight a war?"

"I would never send a child into war, no. I have no doubts that young Harry will want to teach them a few offensive spells, after all, if you can't stun your enemy, you might not be able to get away, but it will be for defense purposes only." Drima looked like he was thinking. After a few minutes, he looked up.

"Okay, I'll notice the department. Where is this location?" Drima asked, and Albus smiled to himself.

* * *

"Harry?"

"Severus?"

"What are you doing? Why are you up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep," Harry shrugged, "because I went to bed early, so I decided to look over the D.A. list."

"Have you figured out who to invite?"

"Somewhat. The Drimas, of course, since Professor Dumbledore is going to ask the Minister. Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Neville and Luna of course. . ."

"Of course," sneered Severus, earning a glare from his son.

"The Creeveys. We'll have to remind them not to bring a camera, though. Ernie MacMillan. Other than that, I don't know. There are a few younger members that I trust, but . . ."

"They are younger. Yes. What about Miss Bones?"

"Oh, yeah. She can be trusted. At least with this."

"That list should suffice. Any larger, I doubt we'll have room. You start writing out the letters. Make them _formal_, Harry."

"Formal? Like Hogwarts letter formal?"

"Yes," Severus replied, and Harry groaned.

"Why?"

"Because."

"That's not an answer," Harry whined.

"Yes, it is. Now, get to it, and I'll start breakfast."

"Wait, did Professor Dumbledore get permission?"

"I don't know yet, Harry," Severus sighed. "He only knew about it last evening."

"Okay," Harry said, and went to go look for some parchment.

Severus watched his son leave. As mature as he was getting, he was sure good at whining. Of course, it was probably because he was never given the change to whine as a child, so he was just making up for lost time. Which, of course, was unfortunate for Severus. He knew he should just shut Harry up when he started whining, and most of the time he did, but it didn't hurt to indulge the boy once in a while, right? After all, there _was_ lost time to make up for.

Harry looked down at the letters in his hand. He reread the original copy again.

_Permission has been given to continue the D.A. during the summer at a secret location for certain D.A. members. If you wish to be involved, owl back, and you will be informed of the first date and place we will meet. Do not inform anyone but your parents or guardians of this, for safety reasons._

_- Harry Potter-Snape_

Harry had nearly thrown it out and started over, but Severus stopped him, saying it said what it needed to say. So, instead, he made nine copies and addressed them. Now, all they needed was for Dumbledore to say he got permission, then he'd send them off with Hedwig. He was tempted to write more personal letters to his closer friends, but also decided against that. Just as Severus finished making breakfast, and they both sat down to eat, Dumbledore came it.

"Hello, my boys. You two are up early," he greeted, getting a glare from Severus and a grin from Harry. Dumbledore had a habit of coming in the early morning and finding Severus and Harry awake, and he always acted like he didn't expect it. "Minister Drima gave permission, so go ahead and send the letters, Harry," he continued before he sat down and started serving himself breakfast.


	3. 2: Training Continues

**A/N: Wow, this took waaay to long to get up. No worries, though, because I'm starting to get into this story again. Sorry this is still kind of short. Also, sorry for the cliffie. Needed to be done :) My other stories should be updated soon, also.**

**Thanks to: ****Tazgirl18992****vbollman****zafaran****Siri02****miz-iLUVsasuke****ancient midnight****DebsTheSnapeFan****SailorHecate****Morgaine00000016****, Satan Junior No Super Hentai, and ****BrightFeather**** for the reviews.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 3 - Training Continues**

Harry woke up to the sound of hooting. He slowly opened his eyes, once again, to a room full of owls. Groaning, he pushed the covers off to find his father looking at him with a smirk.

"So, is this going to be an annual occurrence?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, attempting to collect the letters without leaving his spot on the bed.

"Last summer, you were woken up by owls. This time, though, there are more."

"And you remember that, why?" Harry asked, irritated. "Come here!" he told the owls, and they all flocked down to him. "Arg!"

"You told them to come to you," Severus said, amused. Harry didn't reply but glared at him. "When you wake up, breakfast is ready."

Five minutes later, the room was bird free, not including Hedwig, who was as irritated as Harry because of the owls. Not bothering to look at the post or getting dressed, Harry went downstairs. He didn't sleep well last night because of a Death Eater meeting, so he was very irritated at every little thing. Obviously, so was Severus.

"No," he said as soon as Harry walked into the kitchen.

"What?"

"No. You go get dressed. You should know by now that you should be dressed before you come to breakfast."

"I'll just go back to bed, then," answered Harry as he turned to leave.

"What is wrong with you this morning?" Severus asked before Harry had the chance to leave.

"Meeting last night," was the mumbled reply, and Severus didn't bother stopping him from leaving, figuring that if Harry didn't get more sleep he was going to be like this all day. And he did _not_ want to deal with the boy while he was crabby.

Closer to lunch, Harry finally came down the stairs, dressed and much more awake, carrying the open letters that he received that morning. Severus was sitting in the living room, reading the Daily Prophet. Harry sat down next to him.

"Severus, how does Dumbledore know when we are up early in the morning? He acts like he expected it, but he also acts surprised . . ."

"_Professor_ Dumbledore, Harry. He is probably just good at reading people's reactions. Remember, he is . . . well, way over 100. Why?"

"I don't know. He always seems to know what we are up to. I was just thinking about yesterday morning."

"I see. What about the post?"

"Oh, just replies for the D.A. Everyone who was invited said they can make it."

"Good. If you have the coins ready, send them. Make sure you set it to the correct date and time, first."

"I know," Harry said flatly, giving his father a look, and Severus smirked.

"Just making sure you are truly awake now," he answered. "After the coins are set, come to the library. We will be starting your summer tutoring."

"What! I thought we already were! We've been practicing dueling . . ."

"Yes, but your seventh year is coming up and you need to be ready. Last year you were having trouble keeping up, as it were, even with all your extra studying during the summer before. Therefore, we will be working all through the summer," Severus said, smirking, and Harry groaned. "And don't go arguing. You know as well as I that you need these lessons. You'll be farther in your auror training than anyone else."

"Fine," Harry grumbled. "That's the downside of having a father as your professor, I guess."

"No, that's the downside of being the boy-who-lived. You need to be prepared, and by learning constantly, you will be able to fight more efficiently. Perhaps you'll even be allowed to take your NEWTs early . . ."

"No! I don't want to leave Hogwarts early!" Harry nearly yelled.

"I was just suggesting," Severus said, raising an eyebrow. "Do what you must, I will be in the library," Severus said, putting down the paper and going upstairs.

"Fine," Harry grumbled once again, leaving to the kitchen.

Several hours later, Harry was sitting at a table in the library, parchment, two quills (one broken), an inkwell, and four books in front of him. He was currently paging lazily through a potions book he had read before, trying to find a fact that he knew was in there. Unfortunately, he wasn't having much luck.

"Severus, I don't see the point in this. Cleaning solutions won't help me against Voldemort!" he said as his father walked into the room.

"Yes, but these potions help you understand the affects and reactions of important ingredients. Later, you will be researching those ingredients for other uses of them. You will be making your own potions using several of these, so the better you knew the reactions of the with other ingredients, the less likely you will blow up headquarter," Severus said flatly.

"Yeah, but it's _cleaning solutions_. I don't . . ."

"If you keep arguing, you will be brewing each and every one of the cleaning solutions you are researching, and using them to scrub this house. Harry," Severus said, changing his tone from annoyed to impatient, sitting down next to his son. "I know you understand that you must start from the beginning to understand concepts later. You learned that lesson earlier this year with that shrinking potion you were trying to modify."

"Hey, I didn't only modify it, I _improved it_."

"Depends on what you mean as improve," Severus said flatly. "Are you almost done with the essay?"

"No!" Harry complained. "You just _gave _me the assignment. You know, I bet no one else has lessons as strict as I do during the summer."

"Yes, most likely not. But no one else has a Dark Lord trying to kill them. But the reason I came in here, Molly Weasley just firecalled. Your friends will be here tomorrow at five for dinner, then we will floo to Hogwarts, meet the rest of the D.A. there, then floo to Spinner's End. I want that essay done before then."

"I plan on finishing it soon. I don't want to be doing this all day tomorrow, too!"

"No. As soon as you finish that, you'll start the next . . ."

"Come on, Severus!"

"part of the research," Severus continued, as though was never interrupted. "Which you'll have more time to finish. You'll also have some defense to work on." Harry, seeing no point in arguing, went back to his essay, choosing to ignore Severus.

* * *

"Harry!" Hermione said once she saw him, and ran to give him a hug. "This summer D.A. is great! My parents were so happy to hear that we were working on defense during the summer, instead of just during the school year . . ." she trailed off when she saw that Severus was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"As soon as the Weasleys arrive, we will be eating," he said when she quieted.

"Hello, Professor," she said quietly, and Severus smirked.

"Hello, Miss Granger. Excited, I see."

"Yes, of course! We get to practice spells once a week during the summer! It's going to be great! And because there isn't very many of us, hopefully we'll all become closer. It's a good idea to . . . what?" she stopped when Harry started laughing.

"Nothing," Harry said, attempting to stop laughing. After a minute he was able to do so; just as the Weasley's started to arrive.

"Hey partner!" said Fred.

"We decided to join you in your meeting today," added George.

"It's been awhile since we've been to"

"a D.A. meeting, and decided we need"

"some practice with defense."

"We were also planning on doing a survey."

"Maybe get some ideas for some new tricks."

"That's fine," said Harry, glancing at his father. Severus' face was blank, but because Harry spent so much time with him, he knew that the older wizard was irritated. "So, where are Ginny and Ron?"

"_Ginny_ and Ron?"

"Did you hear that, Gred?"

"Indeed, I did, Forge." They then walked into the kitchen without elaborating on what they were talking about, to Harry's displeasure.

"What was that about?" Harry asked, now irritated. Severus didn't answer, just smirked and left to the kitchen, probably to make sure the twins didn't add anything, dangerous or otherwise, to the food.

"Hey, Harry," said Ron, stepping in from the fireplace. "Fred and George are coming, too. We would have warned you earlier, but they just decided."

"I know. They are already here. And really irritating Severus," Harry said, stifling a laugh.

"They're _here_? How did they get here? They were just at the house!"

"Hey, Ron, mom's looking for the twins. Do you know where they went?" came Ginny's voice from the floo. Ron and Harry looked at the fireplace.

"Yeah," grumbled Ron. "Somehow, they're here. Does she need to talk to them?" Ron asked.

"No, she just wanted to them to go there. How did they get past us?"

"Who knows? Maybe they were invisible or something."

"Okay. Well, move out of the way, Ron, because I'm coming through," answered Ginny, and a few seconds she too was at headquarters. "Let's go eat. I'm hungry," she said, dusting herself off.

"That's usually Ron's line, Ginny," Hermione said, amused.

"Yeah, well, he better not be too hungry. He's been munching all day!" she answered, walking to the kitchen. Harry, Hermione and Ron followed.

The sight that they saw stunned all four of the kids. Severus and the twins were sitting at the table, apparently discussing something potion based. They were talking quietly, so Harry only heard bits of the conversation, but he did hear the words "Danci hair" and "invisible", so he assumed that they were discussing something that could be of use to the Order. If that was how they got past the rest of the Weasleys to get to headquarters. _Very useful_, thought Harry.

Dinner was mostly quiet. Despite working with Professor Snape for most of the past year, they were still somewhat nervous to be around him outside of class or the D.A. Well, except for Harry, of course. The entire situation was rather funny to him. The meal passed quickly, though, and soon, they all flooed to Hogwarts. Dumbledore's office, to be exact.

"It feels weird being here now," said Hermione quietly.

"What do you mean, weird, Hermione? You are at Hogwarts most of the year! It can't feel that weird to you anymore," said Ron.

"Ronald . . ." Hermione said, then stopped, shaking her head. "You really are clueless," she commented.

"What?" he asked, still confused. "Oh, you mean because it's summer!"

"Duh," said the twins, and Ginny giggled a little. Five minutes later, everyone in the summer D.A. was in the waiting room in Dumbledore's office. After a minute of everyone catching up with what has happened so far during the summer (which wasn't very much), Severus indicated to Harry to speak up, not even bothering to mask his irritation.

"Okay, everyone! We're going to the D.A. place now. Remember, you can only get there from Hogwarts. The floo is closed from every other place for security reasons. The place is 'D.A. headquarters', and the current password is 'apple tarts'. . ." Harry said, then paused, not knowing where this was going. Thankfully, Severus stepped in.

"I will go first. I believe Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall are already there," Severus said, throwing in the floo powder and disappearing into the fire. Harry allowed everyone to go first, then followed them through, feeling good about how today was going. It was going to be a good meeting.

Once everyone was settled on the not-so-comforting furniture in the main room of the house (Hermione was excited because the walls were covered with bookshelves, even if there was nothing on them), Harry stood up.

"Okay, first, we need to decide when we can meet. Before you leave, come to me and tell me what you know you'll be doing this summer, and I'll try to schedule the meetings around that. I'll do my best to make it so everyone can come to every meeting. We'll be meeting once a week . . . and you all have the coins now, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," everyone chorused.

"Er . . . good," Harry said, kind of startled by how everyone answered at once. "Other than that . . . I don't think I have any more announcements. We'll be practicing upstairs . . . there's more room," he continued at lead the way upstairs, a smirk on his face.

No one really seemed to like the house, which was fine, because Harry didn't like it either. It wasn't like the dark feeling at the Order headquarters, but the house still didn't have a very pleasant feeling.

Holding the door open, the D.A. students filed into the largest room. Suddenly, there was a scream, and Harry quickly entered the room.


	4. 2: Surprise and Preparations

**Thanks to: ****Catti666****kittykat2005****, Lynxlw, ****Tazgirl18992****bandgeekforlife****SailorHecate****inu452isa****, and ****VickiWeasley**** for the reviews.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 4 – Surprise and Preparations**

Harry watched closely as the summer D.A. tried to hit as many of the flying creatures as possible. In reality, they were only apparitions that Severus helped Harry charm, and as soon as they were hit enough times with certain spells and charms would they disappear, with the name of who hit it the most. Harry thought that it would be a nice test to surprise them.

After a few minutes, the students came to this realization and attempted to work together in groups to finish the creatures off. As Harry figured would happen, Lex and Raven started working together. They were very organized about their technique, Lex taking the large blue flying bugs and the small orange flying bugs, and Raven handling the large cat-sized green spiders and the smaller, rat-sized purple spiders.

Ron and Hermione tried to organize, but they weren't very successful. Hermione kept trying to convince Ron that they should each try different spells on all of the creatures, but Ron refused to go near the spider-like ones, so Hermione finally decided to take them, and leave the flying ones to Ron. Ginny, Luna, and Neville teamed up, the Creevey's were their own little team, and MacMillan and Bones work mostly solo.

The twins only watched amused for awhile, before joining in, most of the spells figured out from watching the other teams. Harry laughed at this. _They should have been in Slytherin_, thought Harry, and he decided that later he would ask them if the Sorting Hat wanted them somewhere else besides Gryffindor.

In the end, the most names that floated to the ground were Fred and George, though how they ended up winning when they entered was beyond Harry. Harry was just about to congratulate them when Ron turned around on him.

"You tricked us!" he said, nearly laughing.

"Yeah, but it was fun. And I learned a lot about each of your fighting techniques," Harry answered, trying to keep himself from laughing, too.

"Yeah, it was fun. And unexpected, too!" said Ginny from behind Harry.

"Well, that would make sense, wouldn't it?" asked Luna. "If we knew about it, we would not have been surprised. If we weren't surprised, then it wouldn't be much of a surprise, would it?" she asked, and Harry saw Lex, Raven, and MacMillan give her a weird look. Harry glared at them slightly before nodded at Luna. She may have been weird, but usually what she said made enough sense if you listened. Over the past school year, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Ginny got used to Luna's rambles and have come to understand her quite well.

"Well, that was good, everyone," Harry said as Severus walked into the room. The first meeting went pretty smoothly after that. Severus and Harry taught the group the spells that would create the creatures, mostly to help with aim, and how to change what spells will 'destroy' the bugs. That's mostly what they did for the rest of the evening.

The next morning, Harry was tempted to just stay in bed, but Severus had threatened twice the amount of work if he didn't get up on time today, so Harry made sure he was in the kitchen early, just in case. As he made the typical bacon, eggs, and toast breakfast, an owl arrived with the Daily Prophet. Harry paid the gray owl, then threw it on the table for Severus to read. Harry never read it unless his father told him there was something important there, which there usually wasn't.

Severus walked into the kitchen just as Harry was putting the food on the table, and Harry smirked at him.

"Wonderful timing, Professor," he said, sitting down.

"Don't give me cheek, Potter," Severus answered, teasingly. It was a common ritual for the two most mornings. How it started, though, neither knew. Severus picked up the newspaper, and nearly dropped it once he saw the headline.

"What?" Harry asked, worried. Severus rarely lost him composure, and when he did, it was either because he was tired, extremely surprised, and with Harry. Severus just shook his head and read the article.

_**New Laws Concerning Muggleborns**_

_The new laws that involve muggle-born wizards and witches were voted in the affirmative by almost every member of the Wizengamot. The new minister, Minister Drima, declares that these laws are for the safely of the muggleborns, and they are not for the 'purpose of shoving them into submission', as he was accused of. "He Who Should Not Be Named wishes to harm all muggleborns and those who associate with them, so action for their safety must be taken," he was quote._

_Section A of Wizarding Law 673213, states that all muggleborns entering the workforce must have a full background check on themselves and all relative, in both the muggle and wizarding worlds. Minister Drima explains that this is for the purpose of making sure that the witch or wizard is who they say they are._

_Section B concerns what happens if the background check passes. If it does, the muggleborn witch or wizard is allowed to work in the wizarding world, under close surveillance. If the muggleborn is believed to be a threat, or believed that they are in danger, action will be taken._

_Section C concerns what happens if a muggleborn enters a state of danger. If he or she is the cause of the danger, he or she will be charged with the danger and/or be not allowed to work in the wizarding world. If he or she is in danger, the muggleborn will be allowed to choose to stay in the wizarding world or return to the muggle world, for their own safety._

_Section D concerns what happens if the background check does not pass. Depending on the level of the crime, and whether or not it was them or a family member who committed the crime, different actions will take place._

_These laws also apply to half bloods and children of squibs who have lived more than one quarter of their lives in the muggle world. These laws are set into action one week from today._

Severus threw Harry the paper and thought about what he just read. Drima seemed to be behind these new laws, which was not a good thing. Severus knew the older members of the Drima family were neutral in the war against Voldemort, but he did not know Drima's position on the ideals that were the entire reason for the war, and neither did Albus. He did now have an idea.

Severus knew there were ways to protect muggleborns, and a background check was _not_ one of them. This did absolutely nothing to protect them, and he agreed with whomever accused Drima of suppressing muggleborns.

"What! This isn't fair!" shouted Harry. "He can't just _do _that! Do you think Lex and Raven knew anything about it? Do you think they support it? Is he working for Voldemort?" Harry asked quickly, not leaving Severus any time to answer.

"Harry!" Severus shouted, in order to stop Harry's string of questions. "No, I don't believe that Drima is working for Voldemort. I am nearly positive that the Drima's are neutral. I do believe that they do not like muggles and muggleborn, though."

"Great! Just when I thought it would be hard to get a minister worse than Fudge!" said Harry.

"We can't do anything about it now, Harry," said Severus quietly. "But I need to speak with Albus. While I am doing so, pack your belongings. We are moving into the manor today," he said, and smirked when Harry cheered up slightly.

"So, _that's_ why you didn't want me to sleep in today," mused Harry, and Severus smirk.

"Perhaps," he answered, then quickly finished eat. After he finished, he left the kitchen, leaving his plate for Harry to clean up, and Harry shook his head. Cleaning up, Harry thought about how he would fix up his room. Never having a room of his own before, Harry wanted it perfect.

He had already decided that the room was going to have a blue and green theme. He was planning on painting the walls a medium blue color, then paint lower part of the walls a dark green color. Harry planned on doing it the muggle way, just because he wanted to. He could always charm it the color he wanted, but that wouldn't last as long unless he set a freezing charm on it, and even then, it would be too much work.

In muggle London, Harry found a nice blue area rug that he figured he could put beside his bed so he wouldn't have to worry about the cold floor. The sheets and comforter he bought were gray, as were the curtains. Overall, Harry was pleased with his decision. Now, he just needed Severus to come back so he could actually put the room together.

* * *

"Come in!" Albus said to the knocker at the door, himself rereading the front page article of that day's Daily Prophet. This was not something that Albus expected. Although the Order did not support Drima, he thought that there would be some hope for the man, but now he knew that the Order must pull most of the remaining support of the ministry. He was not even informed that a vote was to take place, which means that the Ministry knew he would be against it. Albus looked up when Severus entered.

"Severus. I assume you saw the Prophet today?"

"Indeed. What does this mean?" Severus asked, not in the mood for any small take, and was glad that the headmaster didn't appear to be either.

"That we are fighting a war from both ahead and behind. Whether Drima is involved with Voldemort or not, he dislikes muggles, and the public is much too fond of him. It will not be much harder to manipulate the Ministry than when Fudge was in office, though. It should all work."

"Good. Are you ready for next week?"

"Yes, everything is set, and everyone has been informed. What time?"

"About two," answered Severus.

"Good, good. Now, I believe you plan on moving into the manor today? I will not hold you any longer. Good bye, Severus."

"Good bye, Albus."

* * *

"I want to be an animagus," Harry said on his birthday to his father, who was sitting in the living room of there house. The room was mostly neutral in color, accented with green, the color of the furniture. Harry had to admit that he liked Severus' decorating style. It was always simple, but tasteful.

"Then I'll help you work on it," Severus answered, not looking up from the potions journal he was reading.

"Are you an animagus?" Harry asked, trying to get Severus to pay attention to him. He never had anyone around on his birthday before, except when he was eleven, and he didn't even know if Severus knew when his birthday was.

The charms that made him look like James Potter finally completely wore off. Harry didn't know if he was pleased with how he looked now, but he didn't hate it. His hair was more manageable, and about the same color as before, just deeper black. It was also longer again, just below his chin; he was in the need of another haircut.

He had his Lily's eye color, of course, but the shape was definitely his father's. The shape of his face was also exactly like his father, and his nose . . . well, it didn't look like Lily's or Severus'. He was still much shorter than Severus and Ron. Hermione was almost as tall as him! Severus kept telling him that it was most likely because of malnutrition as a child, but now that he figured he was probably the shortest boy his age, and it _did_ bug him.

"Yes," Severus said, annoyed. "Would I offer to help you become one if I was not?"

"I don't know," Harry said, starting to get depressed that Severus hadn't acknowledged his birthday even once today. Harry was about to turn around and go back to his room when Severus spoke up again.

"We are going to Diagon Alley in half an hour, Harry. Be ready in _nice_ robes," he said, still reading. Harry gave him a small glare, wondering what he was up to.

"Why?" he asked, suspicious.

"It _is _your birthday today, is it not? I thought we could go out for lunch."

"Where?" Harry asked, suddenly in a better mood.

"You'll see."

Forty five minutes later, Severus and Harry were in a rather elegant restaurant, called the Tiny Fairy. Harry found the name more annoying, and would never have gone there if Severus didn't bring him. Once inside, though, Harry's thoughts about the restaurant changed. It would probably never be his favorite place to eat, it was too fancy for that, but he was comfortable.

An hour and a half later, after a large, five course meal, Harry was so full of food he didn't think he could make it to the bookstore, where Severus wanted to make a quick stop at.

"Come, Harry, I want to be back soon. We shouldn't stay outside a warded area for any prolonged bit of time, and we have already been gone for almost two hours," Severus said, inwardly laughing at his son.

"Well, then, why the bookstore?" Harry asked, just wanting to sit down.

"We don't have any books on animagus, and I was planning on letting you choose a few books for your birthday, since your bookshelf is mostly bare. Unless, of course, you would just rather go home."

"No! That's okay," Harry said quickly. "We can go, I just ate too much."

"Good," Severus said, leading the way to the store. At 1:30, Severus told Harry that they should leave, and Harry went up to him, five books in his arms. He chose a book on Rune magic, one on creating spells, a charms book that Severus recommended, a book on counter curses to Dark spells, and a book on everyday potions that Severus also recommended. Severus had two books on animagus transformations that he was also giving Harry.

Harry was in a giddy mood all the way to the Leaky Cauldron, where they would floo back to the Manor. To date, this was the best birthday he could ever remember; it was the first time he had family to celebrate it with, and he was very happy.


	5. 2: Initiations

**Thanks to: ****Heksie****Cedric55d****DaimondOfTheMoon****Eagle-Eyes****foxyie xox****, SnapesYukuai, ****SailorHecate****Tazgirl18992****, catti666, ****Arwen-Evenstar-Elf****cmtaylor531****Beth5572****bandgeekforlife****, and ****VickiWeasley****, for the reviews.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 5 - Initiations**

"Where are you going?" Severus asked as Harry moved toward the stairs.

"To my room," Harry answered, a little confused. "I was going to read some."

"How about you come with me," he said, walking toward the kitchen.

"Ookay . . ." Severus stopped at the kitchen door and waited for Harry. With how confused Harry was at the moment, he knew that his son was going to be surprised. He had a feeling that Harry felt that what he received at this time was all he was going to get for his birthday . . . from what Severus had been able to gather, the books would have been the most he ever got for his birthday. Which was why he wanted Harry's 17th to be very rememberable.

"Surprise!" everyone said when Harry entered the kitchen, and the boy stood there, frozen. He had know idea what to say.

"Wha . . ." he wondered.

"Well," Severus smirked, standing behind Harry, "are you just going to stand there?"

"I . . . er . . . what's going on?" Harry asked. He knew it was for him, he just had a little trouble believing it. Severus just laughed.

"Come on, Harry!" Ron yelled. "You have lots of presents you need to open!" Ron was standing behind a huge pile of presents on the dining table, and Harry gawked.

"Those are all for _me_?" he asked, more to himself than the rest of the room, but Hermione answered.

"Of course they are for you! It _is_ you're birthday, is it not?"

"Yeah, Harry, so open your presents already! The sooner you do, the sooner we can play quidditch!"

"Quidditch? But we don't have . . ." Harry trailed off when Hermione elbowed Fred, the one who started the quidditch talk, wondering what was going on. Figuring he would find out soon enough, Harry shrugged and walked over to the table, almost as if he was afraid the presents would disappear. Before he sat down at the only empty seat at the table, Harry looked around at who was there.

Eight of the Weasley's, amazingly, were there, even Bill and Charlie. Hermione and Neville were there, and Harry briefly wondered if they were actually going to play quidditch with them . . . wherever they were going to play it. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Remus, Mad-eye and Shacklebolt. Harry also wondered what the latter two were doing here, since he didn't know them too well, but figured since they were going to be playing quidditch, that they would need someone to make sure it was safe.

Sitting down, Harry picked up the nearest gift and glanced at Severus. He nodded, and Harry checked to see who it was from. Moody. Harry unwrapped it, and found it was a book he had eyed in the store, but decided against buying himself. _Auror-ship History_.

"Thank you, Professor Moody!" Harry said.

"I'm not you're professor, am I?" Moody said gruffly. "You're welcome. I expect you to have that book memorized by the time you start your apprenticeship." Harry laughed, and nodded. He already had _Quidditch through the Ages_ mostly memorized, and he had a feeling that this book was going to be one of his favorites. The next gift was from Hermione, a book on illusions.

"I thought it would come in useful," she said, and he agreed. It _would_ be very useful. Shacklebolt gave him a book on auror defense techniques, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Remus, and Severus had pitched in to get him a small pensieve, Ron and Ginny gave him some quidditch gear, Neville gave him a book on flying techniques (which Harry swore to try some out as soon as he got on a broom), and Hagrid got him a book on snakes. It wasn't written by a parselmouth, but it was written by someone who worked with snakes her entire life, so it was as close as he could find, Hagrid had explained.

The biggest surprise of the day, though, was through the door that lead to the basement of the house. Instead of the dirty basement that it was when they moved in, it was charmed to fit a quidditch field. After Harry recovered from the shock, they started a game of quidditch, Neville, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, the teachers, Severus and Moody watching. Harry, the twins, and Ron were on one team, while Charlie, Bill, Ginny, Mr. Weasley on the other team. Harry's team won, mostly because of the twin's antics and Harry catching the snitch.

At eleven that night, Harry finally fell into bed, still fully clothes. He knew that the day couldn't possibly get any better than it was, and for that, Harry was very, very happy.

The next morning, Harry's first thought was that he still had to bring all of his presents up to his room, so the first sound that came out of his mouth was a groan. Then he remembered that there was something important that Severus had to tell him today, so he stopped mid-groan, and slowly rolled out of bed. Since he was already dressed, he debated whether or not to change, but he figured that Severus would scold him if he came down wearing what he did yesterday.

Down in the kitchen, Severus had breakfast cooked, and was sitting at the table, once again reading something that Harry felt he wouldn't have much interest in. On the table was a letter for him, his Hogwarts school list.

_Mr. Potter-Snape,_

_Included is the list of supplies you will need for your final year at Hogwarts and a list of your classes. In addition to Quidditch captain for the Gryffindor team, as last year, you have been honored with the position of Head Boy. It was voted unanimous by the staff._

_Classes:_

_- Charms_

_- Transfiguration_

_- Magical Law_

_- Defense Against the Dark Arts_

_- Potions_

_Additional classes will be discussed with Headmaster Dumbledore, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Snape at a later time._

_Booklist:_

_- Standard Book of Spells, Year 7_

_- Advanced Charms Theory_

_- International Law_

_- Muggle Law_

_- Advanced Transfiguration_

_Additional books will be listed by Professor Snape._

_- Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall_

"I'm Head Boy?" Harry asked with amazement. "How did that happen? I wasn't even a prefect!"

"Being a prefect has nothing to do with being a Head Boy or Girl," Severus explained, not looking up. "Prefects are usually chosen because of their experience."

"But why am _I_ Head Boy?"

"Because we feel you would do a good job. You care about helping people, perhaps, sometimes, too much. There are additional reasons, but you'll learn what they are this afternoon."

"What's this afternoon?" Harry asked, wondering what other surprises there were going to be.

"An Order meeting," Severus answered, like it was obvious.

"Oh," replied Harry. "So . . . wait, what does that have to do with me? I thought no one was allowed to join until they are out of school . . ."

"You will see, Harry. Now, what did you think of yesterday?" Severus changed the topic.

"It was great!" Harry answered, still wondering about the Order meeting later. "I never had a party before. And when did you have time to put in a quidditch pitch? It wasn't there a week ago!"

"Harry, you have been in the magical world since you were eleven. Surely you have grasped the concept of magic by now," Severus teased, and Harry blushed slightly. "So you were surprised?"

"Surprised? Of course! I thought I was dreaming at first. I know Dudley never got a surprise party. He _always_ had to know what was going to happen for his birthday, or else he would have a tantrum."

Severus smile slightly, but inside he was also angry at the Dursley's. Harry didn't do it a lot, but often enough for Severus to notice: at certain times, he would compare his life to Dudley's, saying stuff like "Dudley never got this," or "Dudley did this." It only emphasized the abuse earlier in Harry's life, and it made Severus wish that the muggles were still alive so he could teach them a lesson.

Once in awhile, Severus tried to get Harry to talk about the Dursley's. The boy always said that their deaths never bothered him, but the way he talked about them, Severus wasn't so sure. As terrible as the muggles treated him, Harry was very protective; a very loving child. The Dursley's were the only family left on his mother's side, and he knew enough about Harry to know that it would mean something to him.

"Harry, do you miss them?" Severus asked, taking a different approach to the conversation than he usually took.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, feigning ignorance.

"Do you miss your muggle relatives?" Severus clarified, trying to be patient. Harry didn't answer at first. Really, he didn't know how to answer. Mostly, he avoided talking and thinking about it. How he ended up bringing them into his conversations frequently was beyond him.

"I don't know," Harry finally answered. "I mean . . . I don't know." Harry really couldn't say anymore than that. "I just . . . don't want to talk about it."

"Harry, you can't just put off thinking about it," Severus said, about the fifth time in the last two months. "They didn't treat you well, no, but they were you're family. It's been over half a year . . ."

"I don't want to talk about it!" Harry said, taking two pieces of toast from the table and leaving the kitchen and was nearly running to him room. Severus finally put down what he was reading and followed his son, determined to get the boy to cope. When he got to the stairs, though, he turned around and grabbed the box of birthday gifts. _Might as well bring these up while I'm at it_, he thought.

Severus entered Harry's room and looked around. He remembered how much effort Harry put into the room when they first moved in, and now it was slightly . . messy.There were a few books on the floor, and parchment and letters everywhere but on the desk. Severus shook his head and set the box of gifts down next to the bed.

"Harry?" he asked, sitting down on the bed.

"What?" Harry answered defiantly. He was lying on his back with his arms crossed, looking up at the ceiling. The toast was thrown aside

"I am just trying to help you, Harry. I know you don't want to talk about it, that you're not _used_ to talking about you're feelings. I'm not either, but I do know that it will help."

"I – I know. I just . . . can't right now. I don't know how I feel about it. I know I didn't care if I never saw them again, but I didn't want them to _die _for that to happen. It's just . . . I don't know. I guess I was hoping that someday, I could make them like me. Not very likely, I know, but now I'll never even get a chance," Harry said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Severus, not really knowing what to do, put a hand on his son's shoulder and gave a little squeeze.

"I brought up your birthday gifts," Severus decided to change the topic. "Would you like to come down and finish breakfast?" Harry shook his head.

"No, I'm not that hungry right now. I think I'll go through my new stuff now," Harry replied, and Severus left. After about ten minutes of sulking, Harry finally got up and sat down on the floor next to the box of gifts. Carefully, he took the small pensieve and put it on his desk. Immediately, he put his wand to his temple and took out the memory, adding it to the pensieve.

Harry debated whether or not to view it. He went over it so many times in his head, but he had wanted to see it how it happened. Deciding against it, Harry sat down next to the box again a took out the pile of books. Severus added the books that they bought earlier that day, so there were twelve in the box. The one on the top of the pile was from Fred and George. It was a compilation of joke potions and charms that they said was extremely useful. After flipping through a few pages, Harry put the book down and picked up the one on Auror history. It not only had the history on the job itself, but also famous aurors and important events. _Definitely an interesting read_, he thought, putting the book down.

The charms one, as before, really caught his eye. It was an updated version of one that Severus said he enjoyed when he was younger. Of course, he said it had to be updated because a few of the charms were now illegal. Harry didn't quite understand why some (about half) of the book was borderline Dark magic. Severus had said it was mostly because the Ministry didn't want them to be widely known, and that was why it was classified as such. They were charms that would be especially useful in a duel against a Death Eater, and that was mostly why Harry wanted it.

The Spell Creator book would also be useful. Reading the first page, Harry was in a slightly better mood when he figured out that for some of the more basic spells, you can learn to do them without a wand.

After flipping through the rest of the books and putting everything away, it was almost time for lunch, so Harry decided to go find Severus.

A few hours later, Severus and Harry flooed to the headquarters. Harry got a little mad when Severus wouldn't tell him why he was attending a meeting, but cooled off almost immediately. He didn't see the point in getting mad when he'd find out in a few minutes.

There weren't a lot of people there. All the professors in the Order were there, Shacklebolt and Tonks, Remus, and Moody. No one he didn't know.

"This will be a short meeting," Dumbledore started, "as there is only a few issues to take care of. First, does anyone have anything that they feel needs to be brought up? No?" he asked when no one answered. "All right, then, on to the purpose of this meeting. As you all know, Harry turned seventeen yesterday." Everyone nodded but Harry, who was just wondering what was going to happen. "So, today, Harry will become a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

"But I didn't finish school yet. I thought you had to first, to join."

"Normally, but we felt your case was slightly abnormal. We felt your position required the membership."

"Does this have anything to do with me being Head Boy?" Harry asked, thoughts running through his head.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it does. The initiation isn't much. You must simply sign your name, in blood, on the contract. The contract does not take away your free will, it simply enables us to keep track of those not loyal to the Order." Harry nodded. His first thought after that was a blood quill. Just as he thought that, a quill and a contract appeared on the table. "Read it, then sign. The quill will cut into your hand, but it will heal immediately."

He quickly read through the contract. It wasn't anything special, just stated that you were loyal to the light, only in so many more words. When he was finished, he picked up the quill and signed his name, ignoring the pain that the quill caused. After all, he was quite use to it after Umbridge's detentions. Putting the quill down, he looked at his hand, expecting it to be healed. Instead, _Harry James Potter-Snape_ was scratched into his hand in small print, just below the line "I will not tell lies." He just stared at it waiting for it to heal.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "Have you ever used a blood quill before?"

"Not willingly," Harry said under his breath. "Umbridge's detentions," he said a little louder.

"What?" yelled Severus and McGonagall together. _They obviously didn't know_, thought Harry.

"We will be discussing this later, Harry," said Dumbledore before Harry could answer. "First, I would like to finish this meeting. The Order has an assignment for you. As Head Boy, you will have more contact with the student population than the Professors do . . ."


	6. 2: An Agreement

**Thanks to: ****Luna Moonlight Fawn****Heksie****BatteredChild****adele rose****cmtaylor531****Eagle-Eyes****Catti666****Melisande Mab****White Raven6****, lalalalalala, ****foxyie xox****SailorHecate****Tazgirl18992****Cedric55d****VickiWeasley****DaimondOfTheMoon****cowTXgirl****, Alexis8907, and ****Elizabeth Patil**** for the reviews. **

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine.

* * *

**

**Chapter 6 - An Agreement**

"I will not betray people if they are trusting me with personal things!" Harry said after Dumbledore explained what he was to do as Head Boy.

"That is not the plan, my boy," Dumbledore answered. "You will only be telling us if someone seems suspicious."

"But I'm just going to be Head Boy because of this?" Harry accused.

"No, no. You do deserve the position, Harry. This is just an extra benefit."

"So," Harry started, a little calmer. "You think I'll do well?"

"Yes, you will, Harry," said Severus. "Even the professors who are not in the Order would like you to be Head Boy." Harry nodded, felling better, but still slightly manipulated. It didn't seem right to become Head Boy only to spy on people.

"Will you consent to the assignment?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Good, good. Now, Remus, since the werewolves are refusing to choose sides at the moment, I wish for you to stay and rest up a while, at least until the end of the summer. Then, you can talk with them again, if you feel a month is enough time.

"It should be," Remus said, and Dumbledore nodded.

"One more call, anymore business?" Everyone was silent, so the meeting was dismissed.

"Are meetings always like that?" Harry asked once most people were gone.

"There is usually more discussion. Today was mostly your initiation. Harry? Why didn't you tell anyone about the quill?"

"I . . . I don't know. I didn't want anyone to get in more trouble than they already were. If anyone went against Umbridge . . ." Harry trailed off.

"That is besides the point. Do you know if anyone else had similar detentions?"

"Er . . . there was someone else, but I don't remember who it was."

"We will have to investigate this," Dumbledore said, walking back into the room and standing at the head of the table. "Harry, let me see your hand." Harry walked to the headmaster and held out his hand. He remembered all too well the pain and blood that made the line "I will not tell lies".

"Have you lied at all since this happened?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry pulled his hand away.

"What do you mean? I didn't do anything!" Harry said, defending himself from nothing.

"I am only asking, Harry, because it could be possible that she used magic that was bound with your blood."

"Er . . . I don't know, really. If I did, I never intended to . . ."

"Harry," Severus said with a sigh.

"Minerva and I will mail the parents and have them talk to their children. We cannot let this slide," Dumbledore said. "I would have Poppy check for any dark curses on the scar later. Good bye, Harry, Severus," he said with a nod, then left.

"Since you defended yourself so strongly, should I ask what you did wrong?" Severus asked.

"I didn't do anything! Really!" Harry answered, and Severus raised an eyebrow.

"I must speak with Lupin before we leave. I will be back," was Severus' answer, and Harry shook his head. _Why doesn't he believe me_? he wondered briefly.

Half an hour later, they were both back at the Manor, and Harry was about to go to his room when Severus started talking.

"Lupin will be coming over tomorrow. He agreed to help with your animagus transformations, so make sure you read at least _some_ of that book tonight. He will also be aiding in training that I cannot teach you alone."

"What time is he going to be here?" Harry asked, not really wanting to train tomorrow. Actually, he didn't feeling like training at all this summer, but he wasn't going to tell Severus that. He'd just get mad.

"Around nine in the morning."

"That early?"

"You are usually up that early, Harry."

"I know, but . . . never mind," Harry relented. "I'll be ready. Call me when supper's ready?"

"Expect me to make it tonight?" Severus said with a fake sneer.

"Of course," Harry joked back. "Who else?"

"Brat," Severus said, and Harry smiled, walking up to his room.

* * *

Harry woke with an extremely insecure feeling. Like something wasn't right. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He knew what he saw wasn't right.

The last thing Harry remembered, he was on his bed reading his book on auror history. He must have fallen asleep, but he had no idea how he got to the Order headquarters.

_Something must have happened_, was his immediate thought. _Has there been an attack? Is Severus okay?_ He jumped suddenly out of bed, not noticing that his clothes were not what he was wearing before. Harry ran out of the room and down the hall, waking the portraits, then down the stairs.

Downstairs, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Severus were sitting, obviously discussing something heatedly.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, slightly frightened.

"Potter!" Severus hissed, startling Harry. Severus never called him Potter anymore. "What are you doing?"

"Severus, what . . ."

"How _dare_ you address me as such! As I've said, no respect for _anyone_," his father said dangerously, and Harry backed up a step, tripping over the stairs.

"Severus, please, leave the boy alone. He's had a troubling week," McGonagall said, and Harry looked at her, confused. This last week had been close to anything _but_ troubling. In fact, it's probably been one of the best weeks of his life.

"Harry, child, why don't you go back to sleep?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm not tired," Harry answered, narrowing his eyes at the three in front of him. What _was_ going on? "What's going on? Why am I at headquarters? Why am I not home?"

"Stop fooling around, Potter," hissed Severus.

"Harry, do you not remember the events of the last week?"

"Yeah, I remember," he said slowly. "It was my birthday, and earlier today was that meeting . . ."

"Harry, your birthday isn't for another month."

"And there has been no official meeting for two days," Severus said flatly.

"But . . ."

"Perhaps, we've been giving him too much calming draught and sleeping potions?" McGonagall asked.

"If you are worried about over dosage, then no. He has been getting exactly what is needed for his size."

"What happened that I need calming draught? What's going on?"

"Would it be too early for another dosage of sleeping potion? Perhaps a dreamless sleep?"

"Yes, it would be too early," Severus said, glaring at Harry.

"Hello! I am right here!" Harry said, angry that they were talking about drugging him up.

"And we can't give him a calming potion, he just had one a few hours ago."

"Harry, come along," Dumbledore said, seemingly deciding something. "Let us go upstairs, and I will explain things to you there." Harry, although angry, wanted to know what was going on, so he followed the old man into the room that he found himself wake up in. Inside, Dumbledore closed the door and sat Harry down on the bed.

"Harry, how are you feeling right now?" the headmaster asked.

"Confused. I have no idea what's going on! The last thing I remember, I was reading on my bed, and _home_. Not here."

"And where is your home, Harry?"

"With Severus," Harry said, looking at the headmaster oddly. "At Snape Manor."

"And why would you be living with Severus?" the old man continued questioning.

"He's my father. Headmaster, we found out last summer. You know that."

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said, changing tactics. "James Potter is your father. There is no possibility and Professor Snape is your father."

"But . . ."

"Mr. Potter, perhaps the trauma in the last week had been too much . . ."

"What's so traumatic about a birthday party and being initiated into the Order?" Harry wondered.

"Mr. Potter, just a few days ago, you found your relatives dead when you arrived at Privet Drive. Just a few days before that, your best friends' families were killed. Perhaps you are just blocking this all out. Perhaps you had a dream where Professor Snape was your father and you are getting confused."

"No! They can't be dead! I just saw them on my birthday! And that's it! This must be a dream!" Harry yelled, standing up quickly.

"No, it's not, Harry," Dumbledore said, forcing Harry to sit down again. For an old man, he was quite strong. "This is reality. You must understand that."

"No, no, it can't be! Everything was going so good!" Harry said softly, starting to cry. He laid down on his side and curled up. Just when everything was going so good, something had to ruin it. This had to be a dream! It just had to!

Harry barely noticed when Dumbledore stood up and left. But, determined as he was to figure the situation out, Harry got up and wiped his eyes. Quietly, he opened the door and snuck down, hiding on the stairs.

"He's unstable," he heard Severus say. "I suggest sending him to St. Mungo's. The Dark Lord would not be able to reach him there, and he would get the help he needs."

"Severus, he needs time to adjust. Once he accepts what has happened, he'll do better," McGonagall said.

"He thinks I'm his _father_," hissed the dark haired man. "Like I would have ever gone _near_ his mother."

"Severus, I agree he needs help," Dumbledore interrupted before Severus could say anything else. "I will talk to Poppy and have her look at him. Perhaps she knows someone who would be able to help. But St. Mungo's is out of the question. He would not be safe there." There was a pause, in which Harry imagined Severus was scowling. A minute later, he heard someone leave through the front door, then someone else through the floo. Guessing that there was at least one other person still in the house (he assumed that they wouldn't leave him alone), Harry made his way back up to the bedroom, feeling abandoned, confused and betrayed.

At a loss of what to do, Harry sat on the bed and looked around. It was the room that he spent last summer in. Reminded of last summer, Harry left the room once more in search of the library. Maybe he could find something that would tell him what was going on.

In the library, Harry immediately went to the section on dreams. There weren't many in there, he knew, but he couldn't help but think that it had to be a dream. After pulling the books down, six in all, Harry opened the one title Dream Control. The other five appeared to be on interpreting dreams.

Harry could tell that the book was dark magic. For one, the book didn't only explain how you can control your own dreams, but other's dreams.

_Maybe that's it!_ Harry thought. _Voldemort can control the visions I get when he wants to. But now I can occlude my mind, so he's trying something new! That must be it!_ Now excited, Harry left the books on the table and ran down the stairs again, this time only to find McGonagall.

"I got it!" Harry said. "I know what's happening! It's Voldemort! He's trying to make me think _this_ is reality!"

"Potter, you need to calm down," his Head of House said, and Harry did, with the suspicion that she didn't believe him.

"You think I'm crazy, too, don't you? Well, I'm not! Something is happening, you have to believe me!"

"Potter, I wish I could, but you have been talking odd like this for the past two days. Only now, it has gotten worse." Harry growled to himself. Who was he kidding? If Voldemort was doing this, of course this McGonagall wouldn't listen.

"_But maybe she's right. Maybe you are crazy_," the Voice said, and Harry gasped. With the potion, the Voice wasn't suppose to be here! That meant that he hadn't taken it in awhile, a thought which caused Harry to panic a little. _Okay,_ Harry thought to himself. _Just don't let the Voice control you. Remember what Severus said? The Voice was just something that the Death Eaters have been using against you. Ignore it._

"_You need to get out of here,_" the Voice said, and Harry shook his head. "_You need to find Severus. He can help_."

"No, I can't leave. I need to stay here," Harry answered the voice, causing McGonagall to look suspiciously at him.

"Who are you talking to?" she asked.

"Myself," Harry lied. "I was thinking about taking a walk, to get some fresh air. I don't think this house is helping any. I . . . I need to get out. I think it is aiding in my dreams . . ." Harry decided playing along at this time was to his benefit.

"Perhaps some fresh air will help you. I will contact an auror from the Order to escort you."

"Really?" Harry asked. "Thank you!" Although that wasn't his intention at first, some fresh air would do him some good. Maybe it would help him think of a way out of this.

"Do you feel better now? Is there anything you wish to talk about?"

"Er . . . I think so. I . . . the dream felt so real," Harry said, making it up as he went along. "And so long. It's like I can remember an entire year . . ."

"Dreams can do that, Mr. Potter. Now, go back upstairs for now. I will call you when I find someone to escort you outside. Unless you are hungry?" Harry shook his head and headed upstairs. Before heading to the bedroom, he stopped in the library and started putting the books away.

Before he got them all back up on the shelf, though, he decided against it. Who knows when McGonagall would find someone to take him outside, or even if she was going to. After all, she, along with Dumbledore and Severus, thought he was insane. So instead, he took down the books and brought them to the bedroom with him.

Putting aside Dream Control for the time being, Harry picked up the next one on his pile. What Dreams Represent. Flipping through it, and not seeing anything that he didn't learn in Divination, he threw the book aside and picked up the next one. Before he could open it, there was a knock on the door.

"What?" Harry asked, not wanting to invite anyone in. Instead of answering, the person at the door just came in.

"Mr. Potter, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Madam Pomfrey asked. A younger man followed in after her, and Harry eyed him with suspicious.

"Who are you?" he asked the newcomer, and Madam Pomfrey huffed and left the room, obviously not happy at being ignored. At the time, though, Harry didn't care. He just wanted to know who they sent to "help" him. The young man smirked at Harry when the school's healer left, and closed the door behind her.

"Mr. Harry Potter, what a pleasure. Now, I've been told that you have been having delusions?" _Some shrink_, Harry thought. _Aren't they suppose to be a nice and stuff?_

"Just some dreams," Harry answered. "I . . . I had just woke up, and I was confused. The dream felt so real."

"Ah," the man said, spotting the books Harry had spread out on the bed. "And you decided to do some research?" Harry nodded. "I don't think that is a very good idea. It might give you more ideas, just confusing you more."

"What? No," Harry said. "I'm just trying to see if the dreams are trying to tell me something."

"You take divination, don't you?" the man asked.

"I . . . I did," Harry answered, confused at where this was going.

"You shouldn't put much stock into that . . . _stuff_," the man warned. "Dreams are nothing but your mind being overactive."

"But . . ."

"But nothing," the man said. "Now, I am taking these, and I am going to tell those watching you that you are not allowed near the library. You need rest. Also, I am restricting you from going outside."

"But . . ."

"No arguments," said the man, picking up the books from the best, with Harry trying to stop him. The man was too strong, though, and capable of using magic. After collecting all the books, he left.

"_You need to leave_," said the Voice, and for once, Harry agreed with it. He needed to get away from these people.


	7. 2: Answers

**Thanks to: ****RinafromSTL****Alexis8907****Tazgirl18992****Sun Phe****Beth5572****DaimondOfTheMoon****Selene Malfoy Lupin****, V****ickiWeasley, ****Stargaze3****Kamorie****Silent as the Grave****BatteredChild****vbollman****foxyie xox****, and ****SailorHecate**** for the reviews! **

**A/N: Sorry for the confusion of the last chapter, but I love this part! You'll see why at the end of this chapter. This little subplot was just a little . . . detour . . . that was needed. Also, sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but it felt like a good place to end it. Oh, and there is a reason for this later in the story. Well, later in part III of the story, but still later. Like I said before, I do these things for a reason. Wanna guess? Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

* * *

**

**Chapter 7 - Answers**

Harry sat on the bed after Madam Pomfrey came and checked him out, proclaiming him tired out. Then, under Dumbledore's orders, they locked him in the room. Actually _locked_ him in the room, with absolutely nothing to do but listen to the Voice. He could only ignore it for so long, and with nothing else to do, for the first time ever, he started conversing with the Voice.

"But what would I do after I get out of here?" Harry asked out loud.

"_Find Snape_," the Voice whispered in his ear.

"But he doesn't believe me."

"_With convincing, he _has_ to. He's your father._"

"But this isn't real."

"_Do you know that?_"

"It can't be real," Harry said, whining.

"_It might be_," the Voice said. "_Just leave, then you can figure out what do to._"

"But how?" Harry asked, but the Voice didn't respond. Sighing, Harry looked around the room. His trunk wasn't even in the room, so he had nothing to unlock the door with. On a whim, Harry walked over to the window, but ended up hurting his hand because he hit it when it wouldn't open. "Okay, I wait until they let me out of the room. They'll have to eventually, won't they?"

"_They might not. The muggles didn't._"

"They let me out to go to the bathroom," Harry argued, angry that the Voice was back. It was so _annoying_. Deciding that he _did_ have to go to the bathroom, Harry decided it was worth a try. He knocked on the door until, about five minutes later, McGonagall opened it.

"What is it, Potter? You are supposed to be resting."

"I have to go to the bathroom. And, I'm hungry now," Harry said, deciding the longer he was out of the room, the more chance he would have to succeed at escaping. McGonagall looked over him carefully, and then nodded.

"Downstairs bathroom," she told him. "I will fix you up some oatmeal." Harry nodded, but grinned internally. She wasn't going to keep watch on him! Following her downstairs, Harry made for the bathroom. Deciding he didn't have to go, he waited until he couldn't hear her outside the bathroom anymore, and then opened the door a crack. With no McGonagall in sight, Harry tiptoed to the front door and exited as quietly and quickly as possible. Once that was done, he made a run for it.

When he felt he was far enough away from Grimmauld Place, Harry leaned up against a tree and slid to the ground.

_That was too easy_, he thought. _They weren't even watching me. This has to be a dream. _If it wasn't a dream, then Harry was sure he was going crazy, because of how everyone was acting.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" a voice from the right of Harry asked. Startled, Harry stood up quickly, facing the man (Lucius Malfoy) and reached for his wand. His wand, though, wasn't where he normally kept it.

"_They must have taken it_," the Voice suggested. "_They must not trust you_."

"What do you want?" Harry asked, trying to not be _too_ rude. Being defenseless and then making a Death Eater angry wouldn't be the smartest thing to do.

"I would say only to talk, but that would be a lie. The Dark Lord wishes to speak with you. He would prefer if you can willingly. He has some . . . interesting news that he believes you might want to know," Malfoy answered, and Harry narrowed his eyes at the blonde. They wanted him to come willingly. Maybe Malfoy would take Harry to Severus. That is, of course, if Severus was still spying in this 'reality'. If not, well, then there was a problem. Actually, Harry thought he knew where to look for his father. Spinner's End. How to get there without traveling through the floo, though, would take some research, and he was currently trapped.

"Do you know where Snape lives?" Harry decided to ask, avoiding answering the man at the time.

"What does that have to do with the Dark Lord?"

"He spies, does he not? I'm sure he's working with Voldemort, no matter what Dumbledore says," Harry lied, "but I want to talk to him before I visit . . . your _Lord_. I won't run, I promise. You see, I've been wanting to talk to him. Everyone in the Order is trying to convince me I'm crazy, so if your Lord . . . gives me what I want, I will join him." Harry spoke this all calmly, hoping to Merlin that the Death Eater would believe him. He wouldn't join Voldemort, but what was he going to do with no wand?

"The Boy Who Lived, savior to the Light side, wishes to join Voldemort?"

"If he can give me what I want."

"And what is it that you want?"

"That is none of your concern. Just know that it is something that only he can give me. Something he offered me before," Harry lied. Actually, if Malfoy took him to Voldemort first, he had no idea what he'd ask for. Well, if that happened, he'd try to make a run for it. There was no way he was joining him. Finally, Malfoy nodded.

"I will take you to Severus. He won't be happy about it at first, but he'll relent. He should be home now," Malfoy answered, and Harry replied with the bowing of his head.

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Can we go now? I really wish to get this over with."

"Of course. Can you apparate?"

"No," Harry said slowly.

"No matter," the older wizard said, taking hold of Harry's arm. Suddenly, they were in the familiar, but unsettling, street of Spinner's End. "Come along, this way, Potter," Malfoy said, walking down the street.

"This place is disgusting," Harry said, attempting at conversation. If this dream was of Voldemort's causing, maybe this Malfoy knew something. He doubted it, but it was worth a try.

"It is a muggle area, can you expect much else? Why he chooses to live here is beyond any of us," Malfoy said, but didn't say anything more. After a few minutes, they arrived at Severus' house. Malfoy knocked, and Severus answered the door cautiously, peering through a crack in the door. When he saw Malfoy, he quickly closed the door, then opened it fully.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Severus asked Malfoy, indicating Harry.

"He wishes to speak with you before he meets with the Dark Lord," Malfoy said, pushing Harry inside roughly. "May I use your floo upstairs? I wish to speak with our Lord about the current situation."

"Of course," Severus said, glaring at Harry. "I assume you know the correct room?"

"Yes."

"Good. Curse Wormtail while you are at it," sneered Harry's father, and Malfoy went upstairs by the stairs behind one of the bookcases. Harry had to admit, the room looked at lot different when it was filled with books. The door closed automatically, and Severus suddenly pushed Harry onto a chair.

"What do you think you are doing, Potter, trying to ruin my cover?" the man hissed.

"No! Listen, please! You have to help me! I'm in some sort of dream right now!"

"Potter, you are _not_ dreaming at this time, stop being a fool. I hope you realize what you have gotten yourself into, now, because there is nothing I can do for you but notify the Order when you and Lucius leave. Doing anything else would jeopardize my position."

"But you_ aren't _spying anymore!" Harry said quietly as he could. "Voldemort found you out last summer, then we both stayed at headquarters for a month. During that time, we found out that you were my real father! Only, we didn't say anything to each other about it until close to Christmas time. Please, Severus, you have to believe me!" Harry was near hysterical. His hands were tightly gripping Severus' robes, and tears were streaking his face.

"You are delusional, Potter," Severus hissed. "I am _not_ your father. There is no possible way I could be."

"But you are, Severus!" Harry said, not noticing that Severus had taken something out of his robes. "You are. Please, Severus. You have to believe me. Please. Please, Dad, please!" Harry begged. Next thing he knew, his father was forcing him to drink a potion, and then everything went black.

* * *

The next thing Harry knew, he was in a bed, someone holding his hand.

"Please, you have to believe me, Dad. You _are_ my father. He's doing something to me. Voldemort's doing something. Please," Harry mumbled, almost incoherent to the man sitting next to the bed.

"Harry," a familiar voice said. "Harry, wake up. You're fine, he can't control you anymore." The voice continued it's talking and Harry slowly woke up. When he finally opened his eyes, Severus was looking at him, the worry strong on his face. "Harry, are you feeling alright?"

"Dad!" Harry shouted, jumping up and startling Severus by giving him a hard hug. "It was so real, Dad. No one would listen to me. Everyone thought I was crazy. You wouldn't believe that you were my Dad. They locked me and, and took away my wand. I ran away, then Malfoy came and wanted to take me to Voldemort!" Harry said quickly,

"Harry, calm down. It was a spell," Severus explained. "When I came up to get you for supper, there was a letter next to you. Moody tested it, and it was some sort of Dark spell. It put you into a coma of sorts." Harry, still hugging his father, thought about it. He didn't remember getting any post before he woke up. "You must have went to open it, and it cursed you."

"How . . . how long have I been out?" Harry asked.

"About a week."

"A week! But in my dream, it was not even a day!" Harry exclaimed.

"Perhaps it took to a certain stage for you to have the 'dream'. After some research, we were able to pinpoint what the curse did. It was an alternate reality curse, so what you 'dreamed' might have been a possibility if an event didn't occur. From what you said, it sounds like the alternate reality was where I wasn't your father," Severus explained, the fact that Harry had called him 'Dad' several time in the past few minutes just starting to sink in. It felt . . . good. Being someone's father, and them calling you Dad sure had different feelings. He hoped that when Harry calmed down, he'd still continue to call him that.

"Dad, he wants me to join him."

"What?" Severus asked, moving his son to look him in the eyes.

"I think he wants me to join him. Or it's a trap, but why else would he do this? It has to be him," Harry said, deep in his own thoughts.

"_Or maybe you are still dreaming_," the Voice said, and Harry groaned. He hoped he wasn't dreaming.

"What is the matter?" Severus asked, noticing the groan.

"The Voice is back," Harry answered. "It had been bugging me all during the dream. It wouldn't shut up."

"That would make sense," Severus answered. "While you were in the coma, we couldn't give you the potion. It would have interfered with everything else you were being given. Are you feeling better?" Severus asked, and Harry nodded. "Good. Now, you should get some actual rest. I will send for Poppy to check you over, but she said that you would probably be fine one you woke up."

"Okay," Harry said. "Thanks . . . Dad."


	8. 2: School and Snakes

**Thanks to: ****Swiffer****MioneMalfoy23****Daniel Freakz****Catti666****Luna Moonlight Fawn****Wings-of-Ivory****EverlastingPurgatorio****Spiorad****VickiWeasley****Kamorie****foxyie xox****SailorHecate****Tazgirl18992****Beth5572****RinafromSTL****Selene Malfoy Lupin****DaimondOfTheMoon****Alexis8907****Bedbugs and Ballyhoo****, and ****BatteredChild**** for the reviews. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, again. My internet's been messed up, only working some of the time, but so far, today, it's been working good (Knock on wood!). In addition to that, my other stories, and my Harry Potter role play site, Hogwarts Book Club that I've been working on (the link is in my profile, if you care). Anyway, I hope you like this chapter! **

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 8 - School and Snakes**

"What?" Severus asked, stopping in the doorway of the room, stunned. He realized that Harry had been calling him dad the entire conversation, but the fact finally hit him.

"Er . . . dad? What's wrong?" Harry answered quickly. "Did something . . ."

"Harry, it's fine. It's just . . . you have always called me Severus before. It was rather . . . unexpected. What changed?" he asked, wanting to see if he was only going to start calling him 'dad' in emotional situations.

"Well," he thought about it, "you _are_ my dad. It just feels . . . right," Harry answered, and Severus felt a surge of an unfamiliar feeling. Not wanting to leave the room at the moment, he went and sat back down on the bed.

"Harry?" Severus asked, feeling uncharacteristically uncomfortable. He was usually collective in his thoughts, but now he didn't know what to think, much less say. He found it very unnerving.

"What?" It was Harry's turn to ask the question, and Severus answered with the shake of his head. "I . . . is it okay if I call you dad? Because, if it's not, I can go back to calling you Severus . . ."

"No! You may call me dad. I . . . like it." Severus replied quickly, then they both sat in the quiet for a few minutes.

"What about the D.A.?" Harry asked. "This week?"

"I took over the meeting. I told them you were not feeling well," Severus said flatly, remembering the meeting, and Harry giggled a little.

"That must have been interesting," he replied.

"Quite. They are not very comfortable when I am the only instructor. They don't seem to mind me when you are there, though."

"You are a very strict professor. Even _I'm_ still scared of you sometimes," Harry said, still laughing, and Severus gave him a disbelieving look. "I am. But . . ." Harry looked down, embarrassed to say what he was about to say. "I think it's because I don't want to . . . . disappoint you." Severus didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. In turn, it made Harry uncomfortable, so they both sat in silence once again, both in their own thoughts.

"If . . . if mum and . . . and James? If they didn't die . . . do you think mum would have said anything?" Harry asked suddenly.

"What?" Severus asked, and couldn't help but think that it was asked too many times that day.

"Never mind," Harry answered quickly, and Severus thought about it. Would Lily have told anyone, eventually? They loved each other in school, and Severus still felt as if he loved her. If the war ended, and they were still alive, would Potter and Lily have stayed together?

_No use on thinking about something that will never be,_ Severus scolded himself.

"I should get Pomfrey," Severus said as he stood up and left. Harry watched him go, feeling as if he did something wrong. Now feeling depressed, Harry laid back down and snuggled under the covers to wait for Madam Pomfrey.

Once Madam Pomfrey checked Harry out and proclaimed that he was fine, Harry got dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and went to the kitchen to find something to eat. When he got there, Severus was making food.

"You are hungry, I presume?" Severus said without looking up from the stove.

"Yes," Harry replied. "Did I say something wrong?" Severus finally look up at Harry.

"No, Harry. You did not," was all he said.

"So, you aren't mad at me, or anything? Because you are acting very strange right now," Harry said, confused.

"I am . . . just thinking. Now, sit. You shouldn't be too active right now, since you have not been up all week."

"I'm _fine_," he replied, but sat down anyway, as Severus placed a plate of eggs and sausage in front of him. "Breakfast? It's almost seven p.m.!"

"Do you have a problem with that?" Severus asked flatly.

"No, it's just . . . unusual."

"Breakfast is lighter than a heavy dinner. You haven't eaten all week. But we need to talk about a few things, like what I have planned for you the rest of the summer. With your assignment for the Order, I am going to teach you how to read people. Most should be easy to read their intent and whether or not they are telling the truth, but some are not, so you need to be prepared. Also, Lupin has agreed to help me teach you to become an animagus, and I want you to study that spell creator book as much as possible. When you are able to create a working spell with not much thought or time, you will be better prepared for anything."

"Can you do that?"

"Somewhat," relied the potions master shortly. "Now eat."

"_Fine_," Harry said, irritated. His father rarely answered questions in detail, and it was annoying. "When are we going to start?" he asked with a mouthful of food, earning a glare from his father.

"In a few days, when you feeling better." Harry swallowed his food.

"I'm feeling fine!" Harry said again.

"That's because you haven't done anything yet," was the reply, and Harry gave him a look.

The next three weeks went pretty quickly. The only times he was able to see his friends were at the D.A. meetings, and so much of his time otherwise was spent working. He was so exhausted that he was dreading the return to Hogwarts. With all the work he did this summer, though, he still didn't finish his animagus transformation. In fact, he didn't even know what he was yet! Remus said it took longer than three weeks to learn the transformation, but Harry felt like it was taking forever.

For two of the last weeks, Moody and a few other Order members tried to convince Dumbledore, Severus, and Harry that he should arrive at Hogwarts before the rest of the students for safety, but, because he was Head Boy, he was required to take the train. That made Harry happy, especially since this was his last year. And, as Head boy, he wanted to go around and meet the other students, especially the first years before they were sorted.

Right now, though, he was half asleep over his eggs, still in pajamas, and too sleepy to be excited for the upcoming day. He stayed up the night before talking with a snake he found outside in the yard (Severus wasn't too happy that he was outside the house, even with reinforced wards around the yard and house) before the snake decided it was too cold and left.

"If you would have gone to bed earlier . . ." Severus said for the third time.

"Yeah, I know, I know," Harry said, shoving more eggs into his mouth.

"What were you two talking about that kept you that distracted?"

"She was mostly telling me stories. It's amazing how many different stories she knew! Some of it was hard to understand, because I don't really know that much about snakes, but I learned a lot about their history. Did you know that snakes keep a verbal record of the past? Well, wild snakes, anyway. The ones in captivity, unless they meet a wild snake, don't learn the stories."

"I see," Severus said slowly, raising an eyebrow at the now awake, excited boy.

"Yeah. After she left, I started writing down what I could remember. Snakes are just as intelligent as humans, they just don't have a written language. They couldn't really write anything even if they did, though," Harry said, then slowed down near the end. "What?"

"Finish your food, then pack. I saw your trunk this morning: There was _nothing_ in it."

"Yeah," Harry said, slightly ashamed. "I kinda forgot about that."

"Does this snake have a name?"

"Er . . . I don't know. Nothing that I can really translate, anyway."

"I see," Severus answered slowly. "May I see these stories you wrote down?"

"Sure," replied Harry. "I'll find them when I pack."

"Find them?" he asked in disbelief. "You had them last night!"

"I was tired last night. I don't remember exactly where I put them. Somewhere in my room."

"And, knowing the looks of your room, finding them could take days."

"No, it won't," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Go pack," the father said, noticing that Harry had finished eating. "You were the one so insistent on taking the train."

"So were you," Harry replied, leaving his plate and glass on the table for his father to take care of.

Half an hour later, Harry had managed to put everything he wanted to take with him in his trunk, minus the snake's stories he wrote down last night, but his room was still a mess. As quickly as he could, he put the books away, threw away the garbage lying on the floor, and made his bed. Severus always hated Harry's room because he never saw the point in putting something away if he was going to use it later. Which was _why_ his room was usually a mess.

Dragging his trunk downstairs, he threw the notebook on the table in the kitchen, where Severus still was. Opening the notebook, he stared dumbfounded at the markings.

"Harry, what is this?"

"What?" the boy called from the front door.

"This isn't anything but scribbles." Confused, Harry took the notebook, which was perfectly readable to him.

"I can read it."

"You can?"

"Yeah," Harry said, still confused.

"Read it." Harry did so, reading the first few lines, but he stopped when he saw his father shaking his head.

"What?" he asked again.

"You are speaking parseltongue."

"What? So . . . what are you saying? This writing is actually . . . parseltongue? Parsel . . . I don't know. What would you call it?"

"It appears so."

"Hmm. Do you think I'd be able to translate it?"

"Possibly," Severus said, looking at the clock. "You must be going, though. I told the Weasley's you were going to be there two minutes ago." Harry looked at the clock, too.

"They are probably still getting ready," Harry replied, but moved to the floo anyway. "See you later!" he yelled, before flooing with his trunk to the Burrow.

"Ron! Ginny! Where are you? We are going to be late! And where is . . . oh, hello, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said. "Are you ready? Good. Hermione is waiting in the other room. As soon as Ron and Ginny are ready, we will be going. We were able to get a Ministry car this year, thank goodness." Harry walked into the kitchen as soon as Mrs. Weasley turned to the stairs to yell at the youngest Weasley's. Hermione was sitting at the table reading a book, but she looked up when she saw Harry enter.

"Oh, Harry! Excited? Do you know who the Head Girl is, yet?" she asked, giving him a hug, even though she saw him a few days ago.

"No, I don't," he answered. "I guess we'll find out soon, though. I learned something today, though," he continued, throwing his notebook on the table. Hermione picked it up and looked at it with confusion.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Dad and I think it's the Parselmouth equivalent of writing. I can understand it perfectly. Those are stories that I was told by a snake last night. I read it out loud, and Severus said I was speaking in parseltongue."

"So," Hermione said, intrigued by the challenge. "If there is a written parselmouth . . . does that mean that other could possibly learn it?" Harry shrugged.

"Maybe. I want to work on learning to write and translate the stories right now. At the moment, I can't tell the difference between writing English and writing parselmouth."

"Oh!" Hermione said, excited. "I'll talk to Dumbledore so I can do some research on it in the Restricted Section. There might be _something_ on parselmouths in there. I don't know, because I've never looked there for any. If not, we'll have to start from scratch. I'll find some books on translating written material. Maybe it will help some . . ." Harry smiled at her antics. Leave it to Hermione.

"What is she talking about researching now?" Ron asked in a complaining voice, walking into the kitchen. "Come on, Mum, Dad and Ginny are getting in the car."

"Just stuff on parselmouths. I can write in it, now. I'll tell you two more later." Ron just looked at him, confused, but shrugged and led the way to the ministry car.

On the train, Harry left Hermione and the Weasleys to do what they needed to do and reported to the Head Boy and Girl compartment. Also waiting in there was a Ravenclaw girl that Harry didn't know that well, but he remembered her name was Elise.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I'm Head Boy," Harry answered, a little embarrassed because this girl was a prefect for the past two years.

"Really? That's wicked! I thought you had to be a prefect to become a Head Boy or Girl."

"I guess not," Harry shrugged.

"It's good, though. I'm glad it wasn't someone like Malfoy, or another guy who hates muggleborns."

"Are you a muggleborn?" Harry asked, curious.

"Yeah. My parents were so excited to learn that I was Head Girl. Although, they aren't too happy with the new laws concerning us. I mean, I won't have any problem getting a job, because my family's record is clean, but what about those who have grandparents or uncle or someone who did something bad? It really isn't fair."

"No, it's not," Harry answered, thinking that this girl reminded him of Hermione, but without the know-it-all feeling about her. "What do you think about helping to unite the houses better?" he asked, thinking that it would be easier with the help of the Head Girl.

"I think that would be great!" she answered. She didn't get a chance to continue, though, because an owl came in, carrying two letters. They each took their own and settled down to read the lengthy notes. Elise finished hers first, then waited for Harry to finish his before speaking up.

"How do you plan on uniting the houses?" she asked. "I mean, the Slytherins won't just start liking the Gryffindors without a fight."

"I plan on talking to the first years on the train, today," replied Harry, shrugging. "My dad suggested to get to them before they are sorted. It would probably help if you were to come, too, since we are in different houses."

"I'd love to! I love kids. Did you know that my parents almost wouldn't let me come because they thought eleven was too young to go to a boarding school? It took almost two weeks to convince them otherwise!" she said, causing Harry to laugh. She changed topics so easily. "So, are you ready?"

"Yeah, let's go." The compartment next to theirs was the prefect compartment, so they skipped that one for the moment. They had the power to call meetings among the prefects, so they decided to do that later. The next compartment had a few younger kids in, so Harry knocked on the open door. They all looked up, seemingly nervous that there were older kids addressing them.

"Hi!" Harry said. "I'm Harry, and this is Elise. We are Head Boy and Girl this year. What year are all of you?"

"First," two of braver kids said, and three others nodded in agreement.

"What House do you want to be in?" Elise asked, striking up a conversation.

"Slytherin!" one of the smaller girls said. "My parents were both in Slytherin, so that's where I will probably be." Harry nodded, then turned to one of the boys. He shrugged.

"I don't really know anything about the houses. I'm muggleborn," he said nervously.

"Me, too!" Elise said. "Magic is great, you'll love it! Well, let's see . . . the houses are Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Ravenclaw is for the intelligent, Gryffindor for the brave, Hufflepuff for the loyal, and Slytherin for the cunning. No one really knows where they'll be until they are sorted."

"How do they sort us? My parents never told me," the first girl asked, and Harry smiled.

"That's a surprise," he told her. "So, what House does everyone else think they will be in?"

"I think I will be in Gryffindor," said dark blonde boy. "I'm muggleborn, but I'm not afraid of anything I've come across. Yet, anyway. I never turn down a dare."

"I will be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. I'm hoping for Ravenclaw, though. There's a lot of bad rumors about Slytherins," an Asian girl said.

"Hey!" said the first girl.

"Yes, there is a lot of bad rumors about Slytherins, but that doesn't mean they are true," Harry interrupted before a fight could start.

"I heard that all Slytherins were evil," said a boy who didn't speak up yet.

"That isn't true," Elise said. "I read up on it, and people always assume that because they keep to themselves all the time. Or, at least, they seem to. But there are plenty of Slytherins who aren't evil."

"Like my dad," Harry said. "You'll meet him. He's going to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He's very strict, but he's a good teacher. Just to warn you, though, don't break rules in this class. He doesn't like that at all! And people from any House could end up being evil. It has nothing to do with what house they are in."

"Well, I'm going to prove that Slytherins aren't evil!" the first girl said. "Even if I get into Slytherin, but you guys don't, let's be friends," she continued, and the rest nodded. "My parents never liked how the other houses treated them because they are Slytherin, but we could change that!"

"Yeah!" said the muggleborn who hoped to be in Gryffindor. "What houses are you two in?" he asked Harry and Elise.

"Gryffindor," Harry answered.

"Ravenclaw," said Elise. "One more thing before we go meet other people. What are your names?" After going around the compartment, and saying goodbyes, Elise and Harry stopped outside the next compartment, which was closed.

"That went better than expected," Elise said. "Maybe this won't be as hard as it seems."

"I don't know. They were first years, and the older kids will be harder to talk to. And there are also those who were told by their parents not to trust people from certain houses. I just think we were lucky with them."

"I hope not," Elise said, still cheerful. "But let's go! The ride is long, but we need to talk to almost everyone."

It did take almost the entire train ride to get to all the compartments, and Harry and Elise were tired afterwards. Most of the first years were as easy to talk to as the first batch were, as were the second and third years. They were the ones who were there only when the sorting had warned the students, not before, so most of them agreed that the Houses needed to unit. It was the older years that were harder to talk to. All of the Hufflepuffs at least listened, and Gryffindors and Ravenclaws knew Harry and Elise, so they weren't that hard, but a few of the older Slytherin groups ended in threats from the younger students Harry and Elise were forced to give them each a detention.

"Wow, there are a lot of new students!" Elise said as they stopped in front of the compartment where Harry's friends were. "The train seemed twice as full as last year, and it definitely longer this year. There had to have been at least 200 first years!"

"Yeah, that's true," Harry agreed, opening the door. "The sorting is going to be long today."

"Oh, no!" whined Ron. "It's always so long. Why is it going to be so long today?"

"There is a lot of first years," Harry answered.

"That's probably because parents started realizing it was safe to start having kids again, since the first war was over," Hermione said. "It will probably be like that from now on, then."

"Who are you?" Luna asked Elise.

"Oh! Everyone, this is Elise. She's the Head Girl this year, and was helping me go around to meet everyone. Elise, this is Hermione, Ron, Neville, Luna, and Ginny."

"Hello," Everyone said together, when an announcement was made that they were approaching the station.

"Another year," Luna said. "It's going to be an interesting one."


	9. 2: Start of a Final Year

**Thanks to: ****DarkAndHaunted****npetrenko****Catti666****cmtaylor531****VickiWeasley****bandgeekforlife****MaireadInish****, Daybreaq, Alexis8907, ****DaimondOfTheMoon****Daniel Freakz****Swiffer****melodicmoonstar89****, and ****hope99**** for the reviews. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: I know it's been almost a month, but I didn't want to write the story while in a writer's block. I want to actually LIKE the chapter I'm posting, and I had a hard time starting this one. Writer's block is now gone, though, so I hope you enjoy this (rather angsty) chapter. Oh, and check out my Harry Potter role play site. The link and info is in my profile.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 9 - Start of a Final Year**

Elise looked at Luna oddly.

"I thought you knew who I was, Luna," she said, confused. "We've talked before."

"Well, yes," Luna answered. "_I_ know who you are, but everyone else didn't, so I decided to ask first in case everyone else forgot to ask," she said. Harry shook his head. Luna's reasoning was often strange. Of course, it did make some sense, but there were probably easier ways to get someone introduced than that. With the train now stopped, the group made their way to the carriages, and Harry looked around, wondering who else could see the Threstrals.

"This is going to be exciting, isn't it, Harry?" Elise asked quietly, excitement full in her voice. "We even get our own rooms this year, being Head Girl and Boy."

"Yeah, it's going to be weird," Harry replied, not knowing if he wanted his own room. He was so used to rooming with the other Gryffindor boys, and this year, he wouldn't even be connected to the Gryffindor common room.

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was filled with mindless chatter, which Harry didn't mind at the time. It distracted him from the upcoming, and mostly likely stressful, school year. The more he thought about it, the more he dreaded going back to Hogwarts, something he never thought could happen.

Once everyone but the first years were in the Great Hall, though, he was excited again. This was his seventh and final year, and he had to make sure it was his best.

The first year students were lead into the Great Hall by McGonagall, and Harry smiled at the look on their faces. He remembered when he first saw the Great Hall, and he briefly wished he could go back to those days when he didn't know much about how cruel the world was, but he quickly pushed it out of his head. Those thoughts weren't for now.

Harry counted those who got into Gryffindor; the total was 31, 18 girls and 13 boys. He couldn't help but wonder if they were all going to be in the same room, or if there was going to be more than one boys room and one girls room. He was dragged out of his thoughts when food appeared on the table.

"Welcome new students, and welcome back old students!" Dumbledore said after the food disappeared. "And congratulations to this year's first years, who happen to be the biggest class since 1976." Dumbledore rambled on for a little bit before he sent everyone off to bed, nothing that he didn't say previous years, and Harry and Elise waited for McGonagall, who was supposed to show them where their rooms were. Severus was the one who actually came down from the Head Table.

"Professor McGonagall sent me to show you around," Severus said, and Harry smirked. He knew that Severus would rather be down in his dungeons talking to his Slytherins, but this probably wouldn't take long. It took about two minutes to get from the Great Hall to the Head Boy and Head Girl rooms, and Severus said something quickly to Elise, who nodded, set the password, and entered her room. Harry then set his own password and entered his room, his father following him.

"Is something wrong?" Severus asked once the door was closed.

"Huh?" Harry asked, looking around what looked to be a study area. He didn't see a bed in the room, but he did see three doors, and figured one of them was a bedroom.

"You have been rather distracted since you entered the Great Hall. I haven't known you very long, but I have lived with you long enough to know when something is troubling you."

"I don't know," Harry replied sitting down hard in a soft chair. "It's just . . . everything's different now."

"Different from what? Things are constantly changing."

"I know," Harry said. "It's just . . ." If his father didn't understand, he didn't know if he could explain it. "Never mind, it's nothing." Severus gave him a look as if he didn't believe what his son just said, but turned to leave.

"I need to greet my first year Slytherins. If you wish to talk to me, I will be either in my office or in my rooms in a little bit," Severus said, then left, and Harry sighed, feeling abandoned. _I'm the one who wouldn't tell him_, Harry thought, but he decided that he wouldn't think about it. Instead, he got up and opened the door closest to him.

It was a bedroom decorated in Gryffindor colors, and the bed, he noticed, was not a four poster bed. Leaving the door open, because he saw no reason to close it, Harry checked the next room; a bathroom. The final door seemed to be an office, which led to, Harry guessed, the next corridor. He guess that was where he'd be meeting with students.

With nothing much to do, Harry decided to unpack. In his room, he opened his trunk roughly and took out his clothes, which were on the top, and shoved them in the drawers. Next, he took out his books and shoved them on the bookshelf in the main room. Next, he took out the box of vials that held the Voice potion. Figuring he wanted them where he'd remember to take it, Harry brought them out to the main room and walked toward the bathroom. Unfortunately, he wasn't watching where he was going, since he was thinking about whether or not he was going to talk to his father later tonight, and he tripped over one of the chairs.

The box flew out of his hand and landed on the floor with a crash on it's side, falling open.

"Shoot," Harry said loudly, getting up off the floor, where he fell on his knees when he tripped, and ran over to the box. Carefully moving the box, some potion dripped out, and Harry opened it all the way to check how many were broken.

Of the 20 that he had in there, only three were unbroken, and Harry carefully put those on the sink in the bathroom. Not able to save any of the others, he repaired the vials, then cleaned the spilt potion up with a charm. Now knowing he _had_ to see his father tonight, Harry left his room and made his way toward the dungeons.

Figuring Severus would be in his rooms by now, Harry let himself in and looked around. Severus _wasn't _there, though, so Harry was about to take the door into his father's office, when he rethought that. It would probably be better to go around and knock, in case he was in there with a student, although he didn't know why anyone would be in trouble on the first day.

Of course, he then remembered the times where he was in trouble the second he came to Hogwarts, like second year, and laughed. He doubted anyone got in trouble as much as he did.

At Severus' office, Harry knocked, but there wasn't an answer. It was about two hours since the feast ended, and Severus _should_ have been done with the first years. After all, it was after curfew. Harry felt a little bad being out of his rooms for personal reasons, but he figured it was necessary. Besides, he hated being alone. It reminded him of the years with the Dursleys, so he knew he was going to have trouble having his own room.

After waiting for ten minutes, knocking ever so often, but receiving no answer, Harry decided to try and find the Headmaster. Harry doubted that Severus was still in the Slytherin common room, but then again, he didn't know exactly how his father addressed his students. McGonagall never talked to Gryffindor after the Welcoming Feast.

Harry gave the password to the office (since he was Head Boy, he was always supposed to remember the password), and went up and knocked on the Headmaster's door. Even there, he got no answer, so he was at a loss of what to do. It was possible that Dumbledore wasn't in the castle, but he needed to let someone know what happened.

Figuring now that his Head of House was the only person left to go to, Harry went to her office, and was glad that she was there.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" she asked, sounding rushed.

"I need to tell my father something, but I can't find him."

"Well, if it's nothing I can help you with, you will have to wait until you are able to talk to Severus. I have a lot of paperwork that I must get done tonight. Go to the common room and talk with your friends, or something."

After that, she pretty much slammed the door in his face. When the potion vials first broke, he knew that things couldn't be going well. It took two weeks for that potion to brew, and since he was supposed to have 20 bottles left, Severus wasn't going to start brewing it for another couple of days, once he got settled in. Which meant that, unless Severus had a stash of it somewhere, in four days, the Voice would be back.

Deciding that he wasn't in a very good mood, and that he didn't want to make his friends feel bad when they should be having fun on their first day back, Harry went back to his room and just went straight to bed, without even undressing.

The next morning, after a mostly sleepless night, Harry didn't feel any better. In fact, he felt worse. Checking the time, he saw that he missed breakfast. Getting up, he took his potion, put on clean robes, and sat down. _So much for a good start of the year_, Harry thought. Classes didn't start until tomorrow, but Harry wished they would start today. Even at the Dursley's, he didn't feel as lonely as he felt now. At least he could _hear_ other people at Four Privet Drive. Right now, if felt as if he was the only person there.

Figuring he had to get out of the room before he went crazy, Harry got up and headed toward Gryffindor tower, at the moment forgetting about telling Severus what happened. Inside the common room, which was pretty empty (Harry assumed that everyone was outside), Harry saw Ginny and a boy from Ginny's class (Harry honestly couldn't remember his name) talking, and he went up to them.

"Hi," he greeted. "Have you seen Ron or Hermione?" he asked, and Ginny shook her head.

"I think they are together somewhere, but I haven't seen them since breakfast," she answered quickly, then went back to talking with the boy. Feeling ignored, once again, Harry looked for Severus, again, but when he was unable to find him, again, he checked outside for places that his friends could be, then went back to his room. He knew it was stupid to think so, but if felt like everyone was avoiding him. Even Elise, who seemed eager to be friends with him, wasn't anywhere he could find.

He pretty much spent the rest of the day moping in his room. He worked on trying to translate the snake's stories, which really was a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. He'd be able to write down a few words in English, but then he'd loose concentration, and would revert back to parseltongue. He was so caught up in the work that he didn't notice when he went to bed that night that he didn't eat all day. The good thing about it, though, was that he was so exhausted at the end of the day that he didn't think about the fact that no one had come looking for him.

Harry woke up the next day, and once again he missed breakfast, but he ran and was able to make his first class, which was potions with his father.

"You're late," Severus said once he walked into the room.

"Sorry," he answered. "I forgot to set a time to get up."

"I see," he answered. "Professor McGonagall said you were looking for me?" he asked, and Harry nodded. He forgot about the potion. In fact, he forgot to take it this morning.

"Yeah. I accidently tripped with my box of potions in my hand, and they fell and broke . . ."

"All of them?" Severus asked sharply.

"No," Harry answered slowly. "There are only three left now, though."

"Why didn't you look for me sooner?" his father asked, and Harry gave him a look of disbelief.

"I _did_," he answered. "I couldn't find you. I even went to Dumbledore and McGonagall, but he wasn't there, and she pretty much just threw me out of her office without listening to me."

"I was in my office almost all day yesterday. You couldn't have looked too hard."

"You weren't when I looked!"

"You only looked once?" Severus said sarcastically. "Because, of _course_ I'll be there whenever you go. I do have responsibilities as a professor at this school, Harry," Severus scolded.

"I know," Harry answered quietly.

"I'll start on the potion," Severus continued, "but you know it takes two weeks to make, so you will have to live with the voice that long."

"I _know_," Harry replied again.

"Don't give me cheek," Severus said, and Harry glared at him. He _wasn't_ being cheeky. "Now, you are going to be making the potion you last studied. I expect it to be perfect, so you best get to it. I might as well start on your potion." Severus said this all flatly, and Harry couldn't help but feel that Severus blamed him. Yeah, it was his fault, but it _was_ an accident. It's not like he did it on purpose.

After classes, Harry got a letter from Dumbledore by one of Hogwarts' owls summoning him, so he went right to his office.

"Harry, sit, please," Dumbledore greeted. "Lemon drop?"

"No," Harry answered, wondering what this was about.

"Harry, I received a rather . . . disturbing letter from a Marge Dursley earlier today. I believe you know her?"

"Yes," Harry answered, narrowing his eyes. Why would Aunt Marge be contacting Dumbledore? And how? She didn't even know he was a wizard!

"She would like to speak with you, or so she said. I'm not sure of the reason."

"I don't want to," Harry said. "She hates me. She'll just end up telling me that it was my fault Uncle Vernon died, and that I should be the one dead, like my parents . . ."

"But your father is not dead, Harry."

"Which would be even worse in her case," Harry spat. "She'll just go off, calling me a bastard or something."

"Harry, I have already written, saying that you will be meeting with her next weekend. You will not go alone, though. I am sure that Severus would come with you if you asked."

"Why did you tell her I would?" he asked, now mad. The last thing he wanted to do is talk to her, even with someone else in the room.

"Because she said it was necessary. She sounded as if she was worried about how you have been."

"Ha," Harry said. "Like she cares." Harry didn't even bothering saying good bye; he just got up and left the office and went straight to his room, not noticing that he left his bag in Dumbledore's office. He did notice when he got back to his room and looked for his notes on parseltongue, which he then remembered were in his book bag. Refusing to go back there, Harry took a random book off the shelf, one that he got for his birthday, and sat down to read.

Harry was going to take a break for lunch, but he decided he wasn't hungry, so he kept reading. He was too mad to eat. He did go to defense, though. As mad as he was, he wasn't going to miss class.

Going to class did make his feel better, though. Both Ron and Hermione were in the class, and Severus seemed in a better mood, so for the time being, he felt fine. Class went well, although he pretty much knew everything that Severus was teaching, so he helped out a little. For awhile, he felt like everything was back to before.

After class, Harry, Hermione, and Ron headed to the Great Hall to eat. Oddly enough, Harry still didn't feel hungry, so he just picked at his food and drank his pumpkin juice. No one seemed to notice though. Ron and Hermione were talking about something . . . Harry wasn't sure exactly what. It seemed like they were continuing a previous conversation, but Harry added to it whenever he could.

After dinner, Harry was extremely tired, so he said good bye to his friends and went to his room. He didn't have any homework, since his only teacher for the day was Severus and he decided to give Harry a few days off for homework. He tried to read a little bit more, but he was too tired and ended up going right to bed.

-----------------------

"Harry," Harry heard his name being called, but he was too tired to answer. He just wanted to sleep; he had no energy for anything. "Harry!" the voice said again, a little more forceful.

"Uhn," Harry answered, and he felt himself being sat up. Everything felt so weird, like he wasn't awake yet. But he didn't really pay attention, because all he wanted to do is sleep.

"You missed your first two classes today, Harry. Why are you so tired? Why won't you wake up?" Harry now recognized the voice as his father's, but he still didn't open his eyes. He felt a hand feel his forehead, then he felt himself being picked up. He tried to squirm out of his father's arms, but was unsuccessful.

"Lmego," Harry mumbled incoherently. Severus looked at his son in his arms and walked to the hospital wing, shaking his head.

When Flitwick told him that Harry missed class that morning, and when he went to talk to him before class at McGonagall's classroom (to which he never showed), he started to get worried. He began to try to think if he had seen Harry at meals, but brushed it off, thinking that the boy was sulking about something and taking his meals in the kitchen. It wouldn't be the first time.

But now he was worried. Harry refused, or wasn't able, to fully wake up, and he had what felt like a very high fever. In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey told him to set Harry on a bed and checked him over. She shook her head.

"It appears he hasn't eaten in over two days," she said, went to the potion stores. "Give these to him. I must go talk to the Headmaster. He's been asking if I've seen him." Severus nodded, wondering what that was about, and sat down on the bed, facing Harry. He sat him up, trying to wake his son up (unsuccessfully), so he carefully poured the potions in his mouth, rubbing his throat gently to enable him to swallow.

He was there for ten minutes trying to comfort Harry, and Poppy still wasn't back, but Severus needed to get to his class, which started in five minutes. He didn't want to leave, but he couldn't leave the third year Slytherin and Hufflepuffs alone, so he gave Harry shoulder one more rub and left for the dungeons.

Harry woke slowly; very slowly. He didn't feel as tired as he felt before, but he still didn't want to get up. He figured he should, though, so he opened his eyes and was confused to see all the white; he should be seeing the Gryffindor colors of his room. It took him a minute or so to realize that he was in the hospital wing. He didn't know how he got here, or what happened, so he sat up slowly, deciding that since he was still so tired, that he would wait for someone to come for him to ask. He decided to lay back down and go back to sleep, a little disappointed that there was no one there in the infirmary with him.


	10. 2: Lunch

**Thanks to: ****SeaBreeze2Ga****moonypadfoot****SensiblyTainted****abraxis****, rachel, ****starbright37****Kamorie****cmtaylor531****Catti666****Iniysa****bandgeekforlife****VickiWeasley****Selene Malfoy Lupin****DaimondOfTheMoon****Daniel Freakz****foxyie xox****SailorHecate****excessivelyperky****, and ****Beth5572**** for the reviews. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: I realize that I've been taking forever to update (over a month this time, gee!), but I promise you the chapters _will_ keep coming. I have a lot on my hands right now, and I want to make sure the chapters don't seem forced, because that would make the chapters sucky. I promise you that every story I write will be completed eventually. (Even Merge of Wars, although I haven't updated that one in . . . forever. I think I only have to more chapters for that one . . .) Any, I'm rambling. I'll let you get on to reading the chapter. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 10 - Lunch**

"Harry," Harry heard, but ignored it. He was still kind of tired, but he wasn't feeling well. "Harry, wake up," the voice said, but Harry still wasn't interested. Sleep was good, and he didn't want to wake up. "Harry, please, you've been asleep for two days.

_No, I haven't_, Harry thought. _I've woken up, I just didn't want to get up because no one cared_. Now that Harry was thinking properly, he opened his eyes to see his father.

"You've had me worried," Snape said quietly. "What were you thinking, not eating for two days?!"

"Huh?" Harry asked, but then he remembered. "I just wasn't hungry," he replied. "And I forgot."

"For two days? I have trouble believing that," Severus said.

"I've gone longer," Harry said. "If I was hungry, I would have eaten."

"Harry, you became _ill_ because you didn't eat," Severus snapped. He was getting irritated.

"No," Harry argued. "I . . ."

"_He's mad at you, you know. It's because you skipped class, not because you didn't eat, though_," the Voice said. Harry was too tired to ignore it.

"I'm sorry," Harry replied. "I'll make sure I visit my teachers to get what I missed."

"What?" Severus snapped. "That's not why I'm mad. I'm mad because you _starved_ yourself for two days. You barely even drank anything! Did you know that the maximum time a person could go without water is three days? What if this continued? You could have died!"

"_Not that anyone would have noticed_," the Voice commented. "_You would have died in your room, and they would just think you were sulking and refusing to come out_."

Harry didn't answer his father, just looked down. The Voice was making a lot of sense. They _did_ ignore him when it was convenient.

"It didn't help that you were sick before, either," Severus said, calmer now.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Madam Pomfrey said you are sick. A muggle flu type sickness that can only affect a wizard. It makes the person weaker and more clumsy, often slightly delusional."

"I'm not delusional!" Harry said, defensive.

"No?" Severus asked. "Why weren't you hungry? I know you don't get hungry when you are upset about something. What was it?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing important."

"It obviously was."

"Everyone was ignoring me," Harry spat.

"I highly doubt that. Your friends told me that you've been ignoring them. That you've been distant."

"I have not!"

"You've refused to talk to me when you said you wanted to," Severus said. "Your mind is playing tricks on you, I fear."

"No," Harry said.

"_He's lying_," the voice said. "_They have been_."

"What is wrong? Is the Voice back?"

"Yeah," Harry said, and Severus sighed.

"Unfortunately, I woke you up earlier than I intended because you need to get ready," Severus changed the subject. "We will be leaving for the restaurant you are meeting your aunt in two hours."

"She's not my aunt," Harry snapped. "She doesn't give a damn about me!"

"I realize that," Severus said calmly. "And she has insisted that she talk to you alone."

"Is . . . is that allowed?" Harry asked. "What about Voldemort? What if he decides to attack?"

"There will be Order members, and me, watching then entire time," Severus reassured him. "And to let you know now, before I forget, we will be starting your classes in two days, on Monday, but I have changed your schedule a little."

"How?" Harry asked, interested.

"As your occlumency and legilimancy skills are rather . . . admirable at this time, we will be working on those for only half an hour every week, to make sure your skills stay that way. As you are half way to your potions mastery, I will leave it up to you to decide whether or not you want to continue that. I have decided to start teaching you the Dark Arts, though."

"The Dark Arts?" Harry asked, confused, not knowing whether he wanted to ask about the potions statement or the Dark Arts first. "Can you do that?"

"No one will no," Severus said darkly. "It will be nothing illegal, I assure you, but you will be much better at defense if you know what you are defending from."

"Not even Dumbledore?"

"No, and you will not tell anyone. You have already been studying some, with that book I gave you?" Harry nodded. "Not that I expect you to use the Dark Arts against anyone."

"Of course," Harry said. "But . . . what did you say about the Potions mastery?"

"You know that you have been learning at a much quicker pace than you would if you stayed in the potions classes here," Severus said. "After you stopped the classes, I was able to pick up the pace even more."

"But I haven't even taken my N.E.W.T.'s yet!"

"You have finished N.E.W.T. level potions a long time ago, Harry. I know you still do not like potions very much, but you are very talented at them. If we keep up at the pace we are going, I believe you could take the mastery tests at the end of this year. If you choose to continue."

"But . . . doesn't it normally take . . . _years_ to finish a mastery?"

"The average person takes about six years," Severus answered. "I finished in two and a half years, while working. I have been pushing you at a faster pace than I learned."

"What?" Harry asked. "No wonder I was having so much trouble!"

"Perhaps," Severus answered. "So, do you wish to continue?"

"I don't know," Harry said, feeling like he was disappointing his father. After all, Severus said that if they kept up at the pace, he would get his mastery in less than two years . . . before he wasn't even out of Hogwarts! There were only six in the past 200 years who got their potions mastery before they were 20; the youngest was 13, but he was a genius. He took his N.E.W.T.'s at twelve!

But Harry felt weird then. Severus would say "good job", or something similar on occasion, but he never actually told Harry that he was really _good_ at potions; that he was talented. Harry knew that he was going at a faster pace, but he thought it was only slightly faster, and he always had trouble with most of the new potions, so he didn't think he was very good. He still didn't believe he was half way to his mastery. It seemed too surreal.

"It is your choice. But now, I suggest you get ready in nice muggle clothes. There are some in the bathroom for you."

"What restaurant?" Harry asked, heading for the bathroom.

"Some . . . muggle Japanese food restaurant, or so Albus tells me."

"Japanese? She isn't in Japan or something, is she?"

"No," Severus said flatly. "Now go. I will not be taking blame for you being late."

"Alright," Harry said, walking into the bathroom to take a bath. After he was finished, he was looking in the mirror combing his hair (it was currently about chin length, and he decided he was going to keep it there), he realized something. Marge Dursley wasn't going to recognize him. He looked nothing like he did in when he saw her last, in the summer after his fourth year when she came to visit for two days. He doubted she would even believe it was him.

"Dad?" Harry asked, coming out of the bathroom, still halfway undressed. Severus didn't answer, but the man was looking at him, so he knew he was listening. "She won't recognized me."

"She has been forewarned," Severus answered plainly, and Harry sighed. For a minute he thought he could get out of this meeting. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "I-I'm sorry."

"You have no reason to be sorry. Please remember, though, that when you feel like you did, that you come to me. A lot of trouble could have been saved," Severus said, sounding worried. "When you didn't turn up to classes, I thought someone had you. Although it is a new year, I'm sure there are still a few people who have orders to harm you."

"Then why have you allowed me to walk around alone?"

"Because I feel confident in your ability to protect yourself. I have been teaching you, remember?"

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling. Today, besides the fact that Harry had to visit Marge, was going pretty well.

"Finish getting dressed," Severus said, and Harry threw on his shirt.

"I worked on translating parseltongue to English," Harry commented. "I still have a lot of trouble with it. Of course, if I was sick, that was probably why I couldn't concentrate on it . . . but I have to concentrate really hard. The story's in parseltongue, so I'm thinking in parseltongue, but I have to write it in English."

"We should work on that in lessons, too," Severus suggested. "Perhaps if we are able to get something translated, I could try to learn the language. At least written. It has always been thought to be strictly a gift, but if it is in written form, it might be possible to learn it. At least, possible to write a read it. Speaking might be a different case."

"Then I won't be the only one who can speak it! If it is more widely known, it won't be considered a dark gift anymore!"

"Yes, but it might also have a downside, but we can talk about that later. Would you feel up to working on it after your lunch? Perhaps we should go check with Poppy to make sure it is out of your system . . ."

"I'm fine, really," Harry said, wanting very much to avoid the infirmary. "And sure, we can work on it. Shouldn't I check in with my other professors?"

"I have already done that," Severus said, and Harry looked at him, surprised. Severus usually felt that Harry should be responsible for his own school work, "as you were ill had no choice in the matter."

"Okay," Harry said slowly, then checked the time. It was almost noon. "What time am I meeting . . . _her_?" Harry asked.

"One," Severus said, and Harry nodded. "But perhaps, since you are ready, you would not mind leaving now? It is in muggle London, and I would like to see the shops in the area."

"Sure," Harry said. "What kind of shops are there?"

"I do not know," Severus admitted, "but I am sure there is a bookshop in the area. It couldn't hurt to look at language translating books. If it has any."

"Do you speak any other languages, Dad?" Harry asked, curious.

"I speak Latin, German and French," Severus said. "Perhaps we should add language to our lessons."

"What?!" Harry asked. "But . . . I'm already doing so much! When will I have time?"

"I did not say that we would go at a fast pace. We would start with just the basics. And I'm sure you will be taught many more languages than that in your auror apprenticeship, since you will be working with those from other parts of Europe."

"Yeah," relented Harry. "I suppose I should then. At least learn the basics. Well, let's go."

In London, they spent most of their free time in a muggle bookshop a few buildings down from the restaurant, Severus looking at the language and science books, while Harry looked in the novels and muggle witchcraft books. It was so weird how different, but similar, the concept was. Very unreliable, but some of it would work for non muggles decently well. Harry wondered if it was actually a wizard or witch who wrote the books, but wrote it differently because the muggles couldn't use wands or magic like wizards could. The energy manipulation, though . . . it gave him ideas.

"_Which will only get you in trouble,_" the Voice said, and Harry groaned. He should have had two days left of the potion. He should have taken one today. Figuring Severus wouldn't have it, Harry picked up a few novels and muggle magic books that looked good, and got Severus to pay for them (though he gave him a strange look when he saw what Harry picked out). Harry gave Severus the books when he reluctantly went into the restaurant and was led to the table where Marge was sitting at.

Curious, since Harry had never been to place like this before, he looked around, and was surprised at the set up. There weren't many tables, each with seven places, and an area with plates on a metal area of the table.

At the table that Harry was at, there were five other people he never met before, and Harry wondered if they were with Marge. That thought was disproved when everyone around the table started introducing themselves. Suddenly, Harry felt weird. This didn't seem like the kind of place Marge Dursley would choose to eat at. He pictured her as more of the fancy, English places type person, where each group would actually get their own table. Not a place where you ate at a table with strangers! And he thought that she wanted to talk with him alone. This really wasn't the place for that.

"How has your school been going for you, Potter?" Marge asked, and Harry shrugged, looking at her. Did she know what school he went to? "I very much dislike that Petunia and Vernon lied to me about where you went. I don't understand why they dislike it so much. Why they lied to everyone about your parents. If I had known . . ." she said. "I myself have several relatives on my mother's side who went to that same school as you. I didn't realize who you were until I talked to two of them a few weeks ago."

Harry was now staring at her, wide-eyed. Marge had magic in her family? That means Uncle Vernon had magic in the family. So why did he hate it so much? Was it because he didn't? Harry decided to let Marge talk, a trick he learned from Severus. You let them talk as much as they want, inputting at times to keep the conversation on the right track. This way, if they feel comfortable, you can learn a lot.

"But that doesn't matter at this time, Potter," Marge said.

"Snape," Harry corrected, deciding to stick with that name for now.

"What?" she asked, obviously not expecting to be interrupted.

"James Potter wasn't my father," Harry supplied. "Everyone thought so until last year, but he's not. My real dad's actually alive. In fact, he's one of my teachers."

"Your name is Harry Snape?"

"Harry Potter-Snape," Harry replied. "I am still a Potter. It doesn't change that."

"So that would explain your . . . change," Marge said. "I would like to meet your father. Keeps you in line, I hope? Although I realize you are not a delinquent, you still have caused much trouble with my brother's family."

"Oh, he keeps me in line," Harry muttered. "He keeps everyone in line. You'd probably like that part of him."

"Strict, eh? That's good. Even those with good blood can turn bad. It's those who have bad blood that are hard to teach to be good. For those type of people, you need those who are strict. Those who are not afraid to use the correct disciplinary methods."

Harry was torn between being angry at the lady and wanting to laugh. Did she even realize that not too long ago, she considered Harry one of those people with 'bad blood'?

Dinner was quiet after that. Harry was surprised that the cook made the food right there at the table (the silver part of the table was actually a grill!), and they were given chopsticks to eat with, so Harry spent most of the time watching the cook or trying to concentrate on getting the meat and rice into his mouth; the latter a very difficult task.

After dinner, Marge paid for both the meals (which seemed rather expensive to Harry), and she followed him out to where Severus was waiting, reading a book.

"Dad?" Harry asked, irritated for no particular reason. Severus looked up, to see Marge looking at him closely. She nodded, as if to approve.

"The boy tells me you are a strict discipliner," Marge said, and Harry rolled his eyes. He never exactly said that, but he supposed it was true. After Severus finished giving Harry a look, he turned to Marge.

"I discipline how I see fit," Severus said flatly. "I do not believe rules should be broken. Are you finished with him? He hasn't been feeling well lately, and should stay out too long."

"Hey . . ." Harry started to say, but trailed off. Severus was getting them out of this encounter, so Harry was up for taking any embarrassing at the moment.

"Yes, of course. It was a lovely lunch, Po- . . . Harry," she said. "Please, do owl me when you get a chance. I would like to hear what is going on in your life."

After she left, which took longer than Harry would have liked, Severus and Harry made their way to the nearest floo.

"That was weird," Harry told his father. "Really, really weird."


	11. 2: Finish a Long Day

**Thanks to: ****Utena-Puchiko-nyu, excessivelyperky, snapescelticgirl, starbright37, jmljasmine, moonypadfoot, Alexis8907, LivingStoneLily, Beth5572, and cmtaylor531 for the reviews. Sorry if I missed anyone. **

**A/N: A very long day, indeed. Well, just so you know, I changed some of Severus background since I originally planned this story, so I had to go back to It's Mutual 1 and change somethings. What changed? Well, when I first started this, I had Severus as a pureblood who was forced to enter Voldemort's service by his father. He is now a half blood. If you come across any details that hint at him being a pure blood in previous chapters, I would appreciate it if you would tell me! **

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 11 - Finish a Long Day**

"How did it go?" Severus asked as they were walking down the street from the restaurant. Harry was feeling okay at the moment, so they decided to walk around for a bit before heading back to Hogwarts.

"It was weird. Apparently, some of her mother's family went to Hogwarts," Harry answered, rubbing his arm. "Now that I'm not some criminal, she wants me to keep in touch.

"You were never a criminal," Severus said flatly. "Stop rubbing your arm. When did you start that again?"

"Huh?" Harry asked absently, confused with the topic change, then he realized he'd been rubbing his arm. "I don't know." Severus narrowed his eyes, thinking, before he led Harry to a place to disapparate from.

Back in Severus' rooms, Harry pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to examine the light Mark on his arm. He hadn't been having visions for awhile now, so it hadn't gotten any darker, but it was still there. He also didn't noticed the burning until now, so he was also wondering when that started happening. Severus took his arm and examined it closely.

"Has it gotten any darker?" he asked, and Harry shook his head.

"Just burns a little. Not a lot, but enough to rub, I guess."

"Perhaps . . ." Severus trailed off.

"What?"

"Your Mark. It happened through the visions, so we might be able to rid you of it. It shouldn't be permanent if my theory is correct. I'll have to do more research, but I doubt I will find much on it. "

"If . . . if we find out how to get rid of mine . . . _I_ might be able to get rid of yours!" Harry said, suddenly thinking of something.

"What?" Severus asked, startled.

"Well, if we could get mine, there might be enough of a connection between me and Voldemort to break yours, if I allow a link to open just enough . . ."

"That would be too dangerous," Severus said, shaking his head. "And it wouldn't work. Once marked . . ." Severus trailed off.

"It would be worth it, if it works," Harry answered, refusing to back down. "But it doesn't matter now, since we haven't even figured out mine. You said we could work on parseltongue?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"Yes. Let's move to your room." Harry nodded and they both walked to the Head Boy's room.

"What have you gotten so far?" Severus asked, giving the parchment on Harry's desk a quick glance.

"Er . . . I don't really remember, Harry said, picking up the parchment.

"Let's start from the beginning, then."

"Which would be . . ."

"Sounds. We'll start at the beginning of the alphabet and record the symbol for each sound."

"Sounds easy," Harry replied. "But confusing. I've kind of tried that for the words, but it's like . . . trying to talk to someone when you are trying to listen to someone else's every word." Severus nodded, and Harry sat down and sighed.

"I think this might be different, though, since we are going the opposite direction you were trying before. Can you think of the parseltongue sound for 'a'?"

"No," Harry said immediately. "It . . . doesn't translate that easy."

"You aren't trying, Harry," Severus said flatly.

"Sorry," Harry said, feeling chastised. "Let's start with . . . words. Things, not just words. Like . . ."

"Cat," Severus suggested. "Simple, and it has the letter 'a' in."

"You're going to keep up with that alphabet thing, aren't you?" Harry asked, shaking his head. He then said 'cat' in parseltongue before writing it down in two different squiggles.

"That's only two different . . . letters," Severus said.

"Well, that's the word. I told you, there isn't a specific sound for 'a'. Not that I can think of, anyway," he argued back.

"That makes things a little more complicated. Try . . . cap."

"You mean a hat?"

"No, a cap. It starts with the same 'ca' sound."

"Well, I can't do cap," Harry argued, annoyed. "It's not like English, where there can be different words for one object. They're _snakes_. Think simple."

Severus shook his head and picked up Harry's attempts at translating the stories."

"What is this one about?" Severus asked, and Harry looked at the parseltongue quickly.

"History account, I think. A snake meets a women who can speak to snakes and healed an injured one."

Severus was deep in thought when there was a knock on the door and Harry got up to answer it.

"Harry!" Hermione said, giving Harry a hug when she saw him. Ron said hi, and Harry let them in.

"We can't stay long," Ron said. "We are helping Ginny with her DADA project," he continued, then saw Severus. "Er . . . she needs people as . . ."

"Props, mostly," Hermione finished, as Ron was seemingly unable to come up with a word. "We came to make sure you were alright. Today was the day you were going to see the Aunt of yours, right?"

"Already did," Harry answered. "It was weird. She was almost . . . _nice_ now that she knows I'm a wizard."

"Huh?" Ron asked. "I thought the muggles didn't like wizards, Harry."

"Apparently, she doesn't mind because her mum's family has wizards in it."

"That doesn't explain why your Uncle hates wizards, Harry," Hermione stated, and Harry shrugged. It didn't make sense to him either. "Are you sure it was her?"

"It was," Severus said, entering the conversation. "The Order check, and it could not have been polyjuice. She was in public too long."

"Weird," Ron said, checking the time. "We should get going, Hermione. Don't want to get Ginny mad. Oh, and she says hi."

"Tell her I say hi back. Bye,"

"See you later, Harry," Hermione said, and they left the room. Harry turned toward his father.

"Did you figure anything out yet?" he asked Severus.

"I might have, but I will need more proof. I just remembered a meeting with Minerva about some inane subject, so if you would mind, write out the words for any animals you can think of, but categorize them. Cats, dogs, birds, snakes, humans . . . then meet me in my lab in about an hour. Alright?"

"Okay," Harry said, and Severus left. Close to an hour later, Harry packed up his work and made his way to the dungeons. Near Severus' lab, he heard voice farther down the corridor, and a vague memory of the warded door at the end came to him. Thinking, he took out his invisibility cloak, dropped his bad off outside the lab, and walked quietly and quickly toward the voices.

He caught up to them (Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle), and followed then down the rest of the corridor.

"I'm just going to check," Malfoy said, and Harry wondered on what. Down the entire corridor, Harry couldn't pick up much their conversation without getting closer, and he didn't want to do that. "Go wait in the common room, I'll be there in a few minutes."

Crabbe and Goyle left with nods, and Malfoy cast a few charms, then went through the door. Harry wasn't able to get near the door in time to get inside, but he did see a cauldron and trees, and he felt a strong breeze coming from inside. When the door was fully closed, and the other two Slytherins were well out of sight and hearing range, Harry ran toward his father's lab. He was a little confused that his bag was outside the door, but he decided to think about it later, and ran inside the lab, closing the door quickly.

Severus was near the fireplace and he turned around quickly when Harry entered.

"What happened?" Severus asked, worried. "Were you attacked by someone?"

"No, but I have to tell you something . . ."

"Why was your bag outside my door?"

"Well . . . I wasn't going to take it with me. But listen, Malfoy's up to something. Remember that room at the end of the corridor I told you about last year? Whatever happened with that?"

"We couldn't get in," Severus said flatly.

"Well, Malfoy _did_. Inside, I saw a bunch of trees and at least one cauldron. It looked like it went _outside_. To a jungle or something. If you hurry, you could probably catch him coming out . . ."

"No," Severus answered after a minute. "If we couldn't get inside the room, that means it is being protected by dark magic. We'll talk to the headmaster later."

"Why later?" Harry asked. "If Malfoy is working on something, wouldn't it be better to . . ."

"No. If we catch him now, we would not be able to get into the room easily. If . . . the Headmaster might have us keep an eye on him."

"Us?"

"You are in the Order now, Harry."

"Yeah, but I'll be lacking for time," Harry grumbled. "But I would like to catch him. But why not talk to the Headmaster now?"

"Think, Harry. This corridor is the only way out of this dungeon. Best to not let him know that we are here. We wait for half an hour, then we go to the Headmaster."

"Fine," Harry said.

"What have you got?" Severus asked, handing Harry his bag.

"A bunch of words," Harry answered.

"Don't be cheeky," his father order, and Harry laughed.

"What you asked for," Harry finally replied, digging out the parchment. "I think you're right about how the words are organized."

"Then it's not going to translate easily," Severus commented, looking at the lists. "Most of these words in the each category look the same. What are these?" Harry looked at the list his father was pointing to.

"Cats," Harry said. "And they are not the same."

"I realize that, but they are very similar."

For the next hour, the two got caught up in trying to figure out how the language was put together, and they were able to figure out details like the type of symbols for mammals, reptiles, and other categories of animals. Harry found out that the closer the symbols were to each other, the closer the hiss sounded, but Severus couldn't tell the difference between most of the hisses until he listened to each one for awhile.

Harry got tired of the translating soon after the hour, though, his thoughts more narrowed onto what Malfoy was up to. He was brewing _something _in there, and if he used dark magic to guard it (in Hogwarts, no less), it must be something dangerous.

"Let's go talk to Dumbledore," Harry said while standing up, unable to stand it anymore.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry. I thought you were going to act more respectful this year now that you are Head Boy."

"Yeah," Harry grumbled. "Let's _go._"

"You act very childish when you are impatient," Severus commented, purposively taking his time. "You'll have to fix that before you become an auror."

"How can you be so sure I'd be accepted as an auror apprentice?" Harry asked. "It's the hardest to get into because you have to know so much."

"And how many extra lessons have you been getting?" Severus asked, wondering whether his son was asking that for spite, or because he believed that there was actually a possibility that he wouldn't get into the program. "You are _Harry Potter_. Even without everything you are learning now, even if you didn't do well in your school work, they would make exceptions for you if you wished to do something," Severus said bitterly. "You have nothing to worry about."

"That doesn't make me feel much better about myself," Harry spat back, angry about his father's sudden change in attitude. "I don't _want_ to get whatever I want like that. I want to actually deserve it."

"The point is not whether you want it or not, the point is that you don't _acknowledge_ it. You pretend the opportunities don't exist at _all_. You don't understand that eventually, when they realize how oblivious to the attention you are getting, you'll cease to get it."

"That's good!" Harry yelled, getting even more angry.

"No, it's not. There are many people who deserve the opportunities who don't get it because they don't know the right people. Your position of being the Boy Who Lived gives you those opportunities. As for what you deserve, you _do_ deserve entering the auror program. You don't have to accept anything you don't deserve, but you should still understand that you _do _have that kind of power! You have choices about your future, and because of that, you won't get yourself into unlikeable conditions if you use good judgement!"

Harry didn't answer. He hadn't seen Severus this angry with him since . . . well, since they acknowledged that they were father and son. Harry didn't even understand why his father got so mad. _Something_ set him off, but since he didn't know what it was, he decided to just go along with his father, like he did with the Dursley's.

Harry noticed himself rubbing his arm and stopped. He looked up to see his father observing him with a blank face, and Harry left the lab for Dumbledore's office, not bothering to wait for the man. To the younger wizard, it seemed as if Severus was calling him unappreciative, but that wasn't true. Harry appreciated _everything_ he was given, even if he didn't like it! Living with the Dursleys show him that life wasn't always friendly, so when it was, you had to accept it if you were going to be happy at all.

_Wasn't that what Severus was talking about?_ Harry wondered, unconsciously calling him by his name instead of 'dad'. _Being appreciative?_ Shaking his head, he gave the gargoyle the password and knocked on the door to his office. He was called in, and Harry was faced with a grim looking headmaster.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, and Dumbledore passed him the day's edition of the Daily Prophet.

**_Restriction of Inter-blood Marriages Passed_**

Below that article, it read, **_Muggleborns having hard time finding jobs_**.

"What?" Harry asked, more worried about the first article. He figured that the latter would happen because of the laws passed before, but actually _restricting_ marriages?

"For the marriages," Dumbledore explains, "Drima has explained that because of the amount of pure blood families that followed, or still follow, Voldemort, muggleborns marrying into these families would be dangerous."

"That's bogus!" Harry yelled, and he heard his father enter through the door and close it behind him. "Does Hermione know? She couldn't have, I just saw her a couple of hours ago!"

"Late edition," Dumbledore said. "It just arrived an hour ago. It makes sense, since it is an especially thick edition."

"What happened? Why would the Prophet come out during the afternoon instead of the morning?" Severus asked, mimicking Harry's concern when he first arrived, and Harry threw him the paper, ignoring the man. Dumbledore gave the two a curious look, of which both of them ignored. After a few minutes, Severus threw the paper down on the desk.

"Harry has news about Mr. Malfoy," Severus said, deciding to ignore the current events at the time. Harry, still ignoring his father, relayed the information to the headmaster. As things were, he also had to ignore the Voice, which decided to add comments to Harry at random times during this explanation, most of which were about Severus.

"This must have been going on for awhile. I'm surprised none of the portraits have reported anything."

"The portraits tend to avoid that area of the dungeon," Severus answered. "Very few students go that way, and they prefer to spend time in other parts of the castle."

"Then we can't have them keep watch closely. The young Malfoy would certainly recognize an increase in portrait activity. Severus, try to keep a close look on those three. Harry? Would you have time to watch then from time to time? Or keep an eye on the room?"

"I could watch the room under my invisibility cloak while I'm doing readings," Harry replied after thinking for a minute.

"Good. I will see if anyone in the Order has any time to watch the room. Was there anything else? If I am going to contact them today, I want to do it soon."

Harry shook his head and Severus answered no. Outside the office, Severus grabbed Harry's arm to get his attention, and to prevent him from walking away again.

"We need to talk, Harry. I suppose I have some explaining to do for you to understand why I yelled at you before."

"I'm fine," Harry answered, refusing to forgive him that easily.

"I still need to explain. We will go to my quarters."

They walked down to the dungeons again, Harry sulking and Severus deep in thought the entire way. Harry couldn't help but think that they've been moving back and forth around the castle too much that day.

In the sitting room, there was tea waiting for them, and Harry wondered how the house elves knew they'd be here for a talk, but decided not to think about it since Severus had sat down and started pouring tea.

"Sit Harry," Severus ordered, and Harry did so, but in a huff. Severus offered him tea, but the younger wizard declined. "I haven't told you much of my past," Severus started, "except for bits of my relationship with your mother and other little details."

"No," Harry agreed.

"When I was in Hogwarts, I worked very hard. I was one of the highest in my class, the highest in potions, of course, but I was given very little recognition by the professors. My House of House, who was the potions professor at the time, disliked me. He chose favorites, and it was usually those favorites who were given the best opportunities.

"I wanted to go far when I was your age," Severus continued. "I wanted to be recognized as powerful and smart, but I wasn't given any opportunity until someone one of my friends knew, Lucius Malfoy, came to me during the summer before my seventh year with an offer. My friend had told him of my ability with potions, and Lucius offered to pay for a further education in potions and defense for a price.

"You must realize, Harry, that my family didn't have much money. Most of the money that my mother inherited, my father used over the years, so if I didn't get anyone to recommend me, like a professor, or a company that would pay for my education, I would not have gone to school past Hogwarts.

"The offer was to work for the Dark Lord. At the time, I wasn't fully against him, I was more . . . neutral. I never planned on getting involved in the war, even though my friends at the time hated the idea of muggles with wizards. Their knowledge of how my father was didn't help that matter much. After getting details of what I would have to do, which involved inventing potions that the Dark Lord would want and not much more, I agreed.

"After taking the mark and producing the potions that the Dark Lord wanted, I began to realize my mistake. The potions were mostly for harming or something else of dark nature. I wasn't a . . . _good_ person then, just like I'm not now. I never wanted to work with potions for the purpose of helping anyone. What I wanted was to be recognized, and you may not have noticed, but I still feel that way.

"But now, I wish I found another way. If there was one other person who recognized my ability, one who wasn't involved with the Dark Lord, I would never have joined with the Death Eaters. Do you understand now why I got so angry about the fact that you don't recognize the privileges and opportunities you have?"

Harry didn't answer right away. Thoughts about how his mother reacted to his taking the Mark and what Harry's father told him about their relationship last year ran though his head. Some things didn't add together.

"I think so," Harry finally said. "But . . . what about your father?" Harry asked. "Was he a wizard or a muggle?"

"Muggle," Severus said, a little surprised that Harry didn't know. He was sure that they talked about it before.

"But . . . why would you have to keep your relationship with my mother a secret from him?" Harry asked, confused.

"My father wanted me to marry a muggle," his father answered flatly, and realization hit Harry hard. If Severus hadn't taken the Dark Mark, Lily would not have broken up with Severus at that time. They might not have ever gotten married, but there still would have been the chance. He blamed James, Sirius, and Remus at first, but now, he blamed himself.

"You didn't know any better," Harry said, trying to get his father to feel better. "But I do. And besides, I have you, my friends, and the entire Order to yell at me if I make a mistake."

"Which I plan on doing," Severus said in a slightly lighter mood.

"There's just a lot about me you have a right to hate," Harry said, taking on a depressed mood.

"I don't hate you, Harry. You know that."

"Yeah, but . . . if I wasn't your son, you'd still hate me, like you did in previous years. You would just consider me spoiled by the wizarding community."

"Possibly," Severus answered. "But last summer, while at headquarters, we learned a bit more about each other. We did get along, to a point."

"Yeah, until you found out," Harry said, remembering that summer with a small laugh. "It feels so long ago. I remember how I refused to believe it. I convinced myself it was a joke at first. I didn't even want to acknowledge it, but you were nicer. I don't even remember when all that changed."

"It was gradual," Severus agreed, shaking his head when Harry began to yawn.

"It's been a long day," Harry commented mid-yawn.

"Yes, it has. Perhaps we should eat, then you should go to bed. Would you like to stay here?"

"I guess," Harry answered, not really wanting to go to bed so early, but he _was_ tired. "I'll need to catch up with my friends tomorrow, though. And homework. I . . . think I will continue in potions, though."

"This isn't because you feel bad about something?" Severus asked, dubious.

"No," Harry answered. "I just figured that since I was this far, I might as well finish. That much potions knowledge would have to come in useful for something."

Severus shook his head before he ordered food from the kitchens for their dinner. It had been a very long day, indeed.


	12. 2: The Forbidden Dungeon

**Thanks to: ****honore****Kay05****LivingStoneLily****Alexis8907****excessivelyperky****moonypadfoot****Utena-Puchiko-nyu****cmtaylor531****LandUnderWave****DiamondOfTheMoon****, and ****bandgeekforlife**** for the reviews. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: I meant to get this chapter written sooner; like, the day after I got up the chapter for It Starts as a Summer, or Brothers by Blood (whichever one was updated second), but I had trouble starting this. Anyway, here you go. It answers some questions you guys have had, but it's going to bring in more.**

**I plan on getting at least one more chapter for this story, It Starts as a Summer, and Brothers by Blood up before my next semester starts. That will be at least 6 chapters up this month! Almost as much as I wrote all semester, I think. Hope you like this. **

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 12 - The Forbidden Dungeon**

_Dear Aunt Marge_,

That's as far as Harry gotten so far on the letter. He had absolutely no idea what to tell her. How do you write a friendly letter to someone who has hated you your entire life?

"Still writing that letter? You have been working on it for half an hour," Severus asked, and Harry just shrugged.

"I don't know what to tell her," he explained as Severus sat down across from him.

"What does she know about you?" Severus asked after a few minutes later.

"What?"

"Does she know what you like? That you are Head Boy?"

"No," Harry answered slowly.

"Then start there."

"I'll write her later," Harry replied, pushing the parchment away and closing his inkwell. At Severus' stern look, he continued. "I just don't fancy telling her so much about myself. She was always so cruel to me." Severus nodded, dropping the subject.

"Any Voice?" the potions master asked.

"No," Harry replied. Severus had finally finished brewing the potion, and Harry was glad that he didn't have to listen to the Voice. "Any further on the Mark?"

"No," his father replied flatly.

"I should get going," he said. "I still need to catch up on work and I should be somewhere where people can find me. All these kids keep coming to me with these friend problems, although I don't know why. I don't see how I'm helping them."

Severus just nodded and said goodbye. When Harry got to the corridor his room was in, he gave a sigh as he saw about 20 third years outside his door. Briefly wondering were Elise was, Harry walked up to the arguing kids.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"We should go to Flitwick," one of the Ravenclaw girls said.

"No! Harry Potter will help us, not give us detention like the Heads of House would," answered a Gryffindor boy.

"And I am here. Now, what's the problem?" Harry asked flatly. This was the part of being Head Boy that he disliked. No one answered his question, though, and he started to get even more irritated. "Well?"

"You look like Professor Snape when you do that. Sound like him, too," said a Slytherin boy.

"Yes, him being my father would contribute to that," Harry snapped. "Now, is someone going to tell me what is wrong, or do I have to involve the Heads? Because I am under 'strict' orders from Madam Pomfrey to not do anything too strenuous," he continued, ending in more of a joke than anything. Well, at least the third years thought so, as they started to giggle.

"We were exploring and we came across something . . . weird. And we think it's bad," one of the kids said.

"Then you should tell a professor. I can't help you with that. You won't get in trouble for exploring the castle," Harry answered.

"Well, you see . . ." another kids started. "We aren't supposed to be. There, anyway. Last year we kinda got in trouble, and if they found out we were exploring where we were again, we'll get in trouble."

"Wait . . . you were exploring in the Forbidden Dungeon? How did you even get in there? It's been warded!" Harry said, and the younger students looked everywhere but Harry.

"Jen's father taught her charms that break some wards," one of the Gryffindors said, and Harry had to close his eyes for a second. There was a reason that dungeon was cut off, and there was no way, from what Harry heard, that a third year should have been able to break those wards. They were either helped by an older student to was specially trained in breaking wards or this Jen was extremely gifted.

"So, the wards need to be put up again," Harry sighed. "I will inform the headmaster. As much as I would like to help you, I can't. I'm Head Boy, so I'm here to help you, but I also have to report rules breaking like this."

"No!" someone yelled.

"Jake is stuck down there!" someone else yelled, and Harry froze for a second.

"Stay here," Harry hissed, and made his way to the headmaster's office and let himself in. Searching the office and calling for Dumbledore, and not getting a response, Harry left to search for McGonagall. She wasn't in her office, either. After trying the places Severus might be, the Great Hall, and Several other classrooms and offices, Harry started to get worried. And frustrated. _It shouldn't be this hard to find a professor!_ he thought, taking a turn for the Forbidden Dungeon. If he couldn't find a professor, he was going to find this kid himself. There was no way he would leave the boy down there.

At the entrance to the dungeon, the first thing Harry noticed was that not all the wards were down. A hard thing to notice when it shocked you and pushed you back slightly as you tried to enter. It took about ten minutes, much to long for Harry's taste, to break the few wards that were left on the dungeon, but when he broke them, he didn't pause before running down.

"_Yes, yes keep going,_" the Voice said softly, causing Harry to pause in his running down the stairs. He shouldn't be hearing the Voice; he remembered to take the potion . . .

Deciding he would figure that out later, he continued down the stairs at a slightly slower pace, remembering what his father kept telling him: _think_ before you act. Severus never told Harry what exactly was down in the dungeon. It was something no one would talk about, so Harry figured it was too disturbing to talk about or no one really knew.

The bottom of the stairs led to a corridor that separated into seven other corridors. _This isn't good_, he thought, remembering the Department of Mysteries. _At least it doesn't look like they will move_.

"**_Make your choice_**," said another Voice, this one deeper and harsher than the other. "**_A wrong decision could very well be fatal_**."

Harry did his best to occlude, becoming suspicious and thinking back to Enyami. This couldn't still involve her, could it? He decided that now wasn't a good time to think about that, since he had to decide which way to go.

Harry concentrated on the first corridor on the left. Sometimes, he was able to sense magic that others weren't, but Severus kept telling him that he couldn't teach Harry that, so he had decided to forget about it until he began auror training. Too bad it would probably be useful at a time like this.

He didn't know what he was looking for, though, which made it even harder to sense anything. After concentrating on each corridor, he decided that wasn't going to work. All of them felt the same to him: dangerous and just plain wrong. Which meant that he was going to have to guess.

Closing his eyes, Harry chose a tunnel slowly went down it. A few feet in, he opened his eyes again and found himself in complete darkness.

"_Lumos_," he incanted, producing a very weak light that only reached about a foot in diameter. Harry tried several more times before he realized that the light wouldn't get any brighter and gave up, continuing as quickly as he would allow himself to go, feeling the wall as he went.

After ten minutes of walking along (he was extremely grateful that he remember to put his watch today), the corridor seemed to open up into a room of sorts. Harry could only guess at that, though, because the only light was still his very dim wand.

"Great," he muttered before starting to feel around the perimeter of the room.

SsssSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssss

"What's going on?" Elise asked the kids outside her and Harry's doors.

"I think Harry went to go find a professor," one of the Gryffindors said, and Elise looked at the kids oddly.

"Why?"

"Er . . ." was the general answer from them, and Elise sighed.

"Stay here," she told them before going off to find Dumbledore. He was sitting at his desk, looking over some scrolls, which were spread out over the desk.

"What can I help you with?" Dumbledore asked after she knocked and entered.

"Have you seen Harry?" she asked. "There are a bunch of third years outside my door and they said he went looking for a professor."

"No, I haven't seen him," the headmaster answered. "Let's go see what the problem is. This paperwork is quite boring."

It was extremely difficult getting an answer from the kids as they kept dodging the questions. It was Dumbledore who finally figured out what they were hiding.

"You have been in the Forbidden Dungeon," he stated slowly, and the kids' guilty looks confirmed his thoughts. "Did Mr. Potter tell you where he was going?"

"No," one of the girls finally answered, looking to be near tears. "He just said to wait here, but he went in the direction of your office, not the dungeon."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said quietly. "Ms. Lander, I would like you to bring these students to my office waiting room so you can collect your names. If I am not back by dinner time, you may send them to eat."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore," Elise said and began herding the third years away. One of them didn't move, though.

"He might have gone after Jake, if you can't find him," the boy said. "He disappeared when we were down there."

"Thank you," Dumbledore answered sadly and waved the boy to follow the Head Girl before heading to Severus' office. He caught the professor just as he was leaving.

"What is wrong?" he asked, and Dumbledore smiled at him. Severus always asked that whenever he found the headmaster in the dungeons.

"Has Harry come to visit you today?"

"He was with me in my office earlier. Why?"

"Because it is possible that he might be in the Forbidden Dungeon."

"What?!"

"The same group of children from two terms ago decided to explore down there again."

"I thought you had powerful wards on it."

"There were. There was no way even a student as Harry could have taken them down. Either one of the professors helped, which I doubt because you would probably be on the only who could break them, or something from inside the dungeon manipulated them."

"Do you know what is down there?" Severus asked harshly, and Albus shook his head.

"No. I myself have never been able to get down there; it has kept me out."

Severus glared, warded his office door, and started walking toward the other dungeon. It had only been an hour, and Harry had already gotten himself in trouble. When he arrived at the spot where the warded stairwell should have been, it was nowhere to be seen, so he turned to the headmaster and continued to glare.

SSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssss

"_He has a lot to learn, but he should do_," a third Voice said as the room slowly started to lighten. "_You have chosen wisely_." This voice sounded demanding, like Severus did when he wanted something.

"**_Should we inform him?_**" yet another voice asked, too chipper for Harry's current situation.

"**_A little,_**" the deep voice replied. "**_He won't be able to tell anyone_**."

"_Are you sure about that? He's clever, and so is that other one, the father. He was able to block me when this boy was far enough away from here, despite the fact he doesn't remember inventing our potion. We used him, too, and you saw how that turned out._"

_Severus was involved at one point?_ Harry wondered before another Voice started talking.

"_That problem started when we chose that Dark one. The father was the right choice, but that other one was too dark for our needs._"

"**_Yes, but they don't remember, anyway_**," the chipper voice argued. "**_Very few do. That was taken care of._**"

"_We will simply be careful what we tell the boy_," the demanding Voice stated flatly.

"Who are you?" Harry asked, scared. "Where's the other boy?"

"_That is irrelevant_," the Voice said. Now, the room seemed at full light, but the sources of the voices where not to be seen. The room itself was made of plain, smooth, dark stone, and it didn't look like they could be watching him from a window or something, which made Harry even more nervous. "_You will be quiet and listen. You will be given jobs, which, when completed, will help you on your way to greatness. But, above anything, you must obey us._"

"But . . ." Harry started before he was cut off.

"**_Quiet, boy, you don't want to make us mad_**," the happy voice said, and Harry wanted so much just to shut it up. It reminded him _way_ too much of Umbridge. Maybe three of them, plus an old sitcom mother who smiled constantly, would explain how annoying it was.

"_You might or might now know what these jobs are, but you will do them nonetheless._"

"**_That is enough information. Let him go, now_**."

"But I don't _want_ to be great!" Harry said after a few minute pause. When nothing answered, he looked around, not knowing which of the two exit ways he came in from. When the lights started dimming, though, he choose one quickly and ran and continued running even when it became dark again. When Harry tripped up the stairs, he crawled up them instead of getting to his feet, not wanting to waste the time.

No one was around when he came to the top of the stairs, so, forgetting about the third year boy, he ran to Severus' rooms and collapsed onto the sofa.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssss

"We found him, we found him!" three Hufflepuff third years yelled, running to the Gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office. It was about an hour after dinner. McGonagall came walking up behind them.

"You found Mr. Jacobson?" she asked. After not being able to find the entrance to the dungeon, Severus went to inform the rest of the staff while Albus went to do some research, so most of the staff was working on it. After the students nodded, she let them into the office.

"He was in the common room the entire time," one the boys said.

"But he said he didn't go down with us. He _did_, though. He was next to me most of the time," the other boy stated. "And he wouldn't come with us here. He said that he didn't have to because he never went."

"I see," Dumbledore nodded. "You three may go. We will discuss punishments for all involved once this is figured out." After they left, McGonagall turned to the headmaster.

"What do you think happened, Albus?" she asked, stiff.

"I am not sure. I fear that there is something in the dungeons that is manipulating the children, but I am not able to find more than a few statements about it. What bothers me the most is that whatever is down there seems to be able to control the wards and perhaps time. Which would be why no one noticed him in the common room until now."

"Someone is watching the area where the entrance is supposed to be?"

"Severus is," Dumbledore answered. "Would you check the Gryffindor common room? I will go tell Severus to check his rooms. Perhaps Harry is not down in the dungeon." She nodded and left and Albus went to find the defense professor.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssss

"Harry?" Severus called, entering his rooms. He had already checked his office and their private classroom after Albus had told him that the Hufflepuff kid had been found, and this was the last place he could think to look.

"Dad!" Harry answered, sitting up. He tried to tell Severus what happened, but he couldn't. Not exactly, anyway. "I need to get away for a little bit . . ." Harry felt he was going to regret what he suggested next, but it was the only place he knew was currently warded that was far enough away from Hogwarts. Actually, he didn't know if it was far enough away, but it was the farthest away.

Harry had done some thinking while he was laying on the sofa. The potion didn't work when he was in the dungeon, obviously, so perhaps it would work better the farther away he was. And if it stopped the Voice from talking, maybe it could stop whatever was blocking him from talking.

"Do you know where Aunt Marge lives?"

"What?"

"Well, I was thinking. I was having such a hard time writing a letter, that telling her about myself in person might be easier . . ." Severus gave his son a worried look.

"I think we should figure out where you had been for the past few hours."

"I've been _here_ for . . . two hours I think," Harry answered. "But that's beside the point. _Please_ can we go? You can bring the potion with you, if you want, and try to improve it . . ."

Severus finally got what Harry was hinting at, and _legilimens_'d him. He was unable to get anything but fear out of the hidden memories.

"I will inform the headmaster that we will be gone for the rest of the weekend."

"Tell him that I don't think it was their fault they are in trouble," Harry stated generically, but Severus understood what he meant: the third year students.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssssssss

Three hours later, Severus and Harry walked up the pathway to Marge Dursley's house, unexpected. Harry was surprised that they actually made it; he had expected the Voices to stop him somehow. Harry knocked, nervous and not knowing what he was going to say. Would she be willing to let them stay for the weekend? Harry wasn't so sure she would.

It wasn't Marge who answered; it was one of the men that Harry recognized as the dogs' trainer and breeder. Marge Dursley had been in the Dog Show business since her early twenties, Harry remembered his aunt Petunia saying. She made her money by breeding expensive show dogs, showing them and selling them. Mostly, it was the 'toy' dog breeds, as Harry learned they were called.

"Yes?" the man asked.

"I'm here to see my Aunt Marge," Harry answered.

"Who are you?"

"Harry Potter." The man looked at him oddly before inviting the two strangers in and leaving to get Marge.

"Potter? What are you doing here?" she asked, coming into the room, several dogs following her.

"Needed to get away from Hogwarts," Harry answered. "Something in one of the dungeons is trying to control me, and here is the farthest from school."

"We were wondering if you wouldn't mind us staying for the weekend," Severus continued, surprised that Harry was able to say as much as he did. "So we can try to figure out what is going on. Harry seems to be able to talk about it more farther away from Hogwarts he gets."

"I think the potion helps, too," Harry contributed. Marge appeared to think for a minute.

"You may use the two guest bedrooms," she replied before turning to Harry. "As long as nothing comes after me."

"As you are a muggle, I don't think there are any worries about that," Severus answered.

"Thank you," Harry said, and Marge looked at him coldly.

"While you are here, I expect to hear more about you. It is only proper to converse with your hosts. The rooms are on the second floor, at the end of the hall. One, straight ahead, the other on the right. I was preparing for bed when you came, so you will not see me until tomorrow morning. Breakfast is at six," she said, and Harry inwardly groaned. They always had to get up early on the days that she visited at the Dursley's because she was used to getting up early. He always hated that.

She said goodnight to the two visitors, and Harry and Severus went upstairs to try and talk about what happened in the dungeon. Harry knew he would be able to say more than he could at Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure how much. As neither of the Snapes were tired, they both figured they were looking forward to a long night . . . and not much sleep, since they had to be up early for breakfast.

Trudging up the stairs, Harry hoped that Severus brought some Pepper Up potions. They were going to need them.


	13. 2: A Deal

**Thanks to: ****Moira-girl****robin and marion forever****Catti666****LiquidVamp****applesollie****Pip3****DiamondOfTheMoon****Thorsten P. Ziegler****bandgeekforlife****jmljasmine****Utena-Puchiko-nyu****LandUnderWave****, and Alexis8907 for the reviews. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: Yes! Another chapter finished. Well, of course it's finished. If it wasn't I wouldn't be posting it. sigh I have to stop talking to myself.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 13 - A Deal**

Harry was woken up two hours after he fell asleep by Severus.

"Come on, Dad," Harry whined.

"Breakfast is being served in half an hour. I suggest you take a shower a get dressed so you are _somewhat_ presentable. As neither of us know how your . . . _aunt_ is going to react to anything, we must both be on our best behavior as long as we wish to stay here."

"Fine," Harry answered, rolling out of bed, literally. "Ow," he commented as his father helped him up. Severus shoved a bottle of Pepper Up into his hand and Harry quickly drank it before he grabbed his clothes and headed to the bathroom.

Last night, they got some of what happened figured out, since Harry could (mostly) talk about it freely with extra doses of the Voice potion. They knew that there were several (at least five) entities in the Forbidden Dungeon, and that Harry was not the first one they tried to control. Others included a very dark person (Harry's first guess was Voldemort, but Severus told him not to jump to conclusions), and (despite the fact that Severus did not remember anything of the sort), Severus. Or James Potter, but most likely it was Severus as it was 'the father' who invented the potion.

Severus was planning on taking the Voice potion after breakfast, in an overdose. It was dangerous, but he had concluded that it was probably the best way to break whatever it was that was most likely causing him to forget. Harry, of course, had objected.

The shower went too fast for Harry, and before he knew it, he was sitting at a table with his father and Aunt Marge. And bugging him more than the fact that he was sitting next to Dursley was the awkward silence that filled the room. It wasn't filled until Marge had finished her breakfast and she pushed her plate away."

"What is your job Mr. . ."

"Snape," Severus answered.

"Snape. Of course."

"I am a professor at Hogwarts, teaching Defense."

"So you are able to keep a close eye on Potter?" she asked, and Harry held his tongue, even though he wanted to yell out that he was sitting right there."

"When necessary."

"And you, Potter? What do you plan on doing after Hogwarts?"

"I plan on becoming an auror," Harry replied. "A dark wizard fighter," he explained at Marge's confused look.

"Interesting," she said. "Now, as much as I would love to converse right now, I do have much to do today, so I will have to see you two at lunch, which takes place at one."

"Bye," Harry said as the lady left. The two finished their breakfast before both walked solemnly up the stairs to Severus' room, where it was set up.

"Keep me talking," Severus said as he sat on the bed, his back to the headboard. "I will tell you if I need silence to concentrate."

"Okay," Harry said. "Are you sure you should be doing this? You'll be taking a lot of the potion."

"It will not be enough to kill me," Severus said. "The worst that will happen will be that I do not wake up for a few days. In that case, you are to contact the headmaster."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Severus took eight of the vials that the Voice potion was kept in and poured them into a glass for easy consumption. Quickly, he drank the potion down, and Harry sat at on the edge of the bed, looking sadly at his father.

"Are you feeling okay?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Nothing should happen for another minute or two."

"Okay. Er . . . what should we talk about?" There was a pause while Severus thought.

"Wait," Severus said. "I'm remembering something."

"Already?" Harry asked. He had said that nothing was supposed to happen yet.

"Sh," hushed Severus, and Harry kept his mouth closed, but he didn't keep his eyes off his father.

Severus, on the other hand, closed his eyes. He needed to concentrate. He was extremely surprised that the potion was working this well. Perhaps he didn't need to take as much as he thought . . .

_"_Severus,_" the voice said flatly. "_I'm glad you finally decided to join us_."_

_"I am sorry, Masters," Severus answered. "This was especially difficult to make."_

_"**But it will work?**" another Voice asked._

_"I don't see why it shouldn't."_

_"_**I really like this boy**_," yet another voice said, and Severus beamed. That was good. That meant he should be getting what he wanted._

_"_**Of course you'll be getting what you want**_," a Voice said. "_**You are the best we've come across**_."_

_"**There are a few other . . . things that you must do for us, though.**"_

_"Anything," Severus replied, and he could hear a few of the Voices laughing. He could never figure out how many there were, since only a few choose to talk to him._

_"**You will be having a son in the future. We want him. You will train him well so we may use him.**" Severus nodded. "**There are a few others, of course, but you don't need to be told them.**"_

_"Do you know when I will have this child?"_

_"**That is irrelevant**," another Voice said, irritated. "**You are asking too many questions**."_

_"Sorry, Masters," Severus apologized._

_"_Should he really be remembering this?_" one asked._

_"_**No. When he leaves here, he will not remember**_."_

_"_You may leave_."_

_Trying not to show his irritation, Severus left the large room as the lights started to fade. _They don't realize that they are asking for a son that they will never get_, Severus thought to himself as the corridor went pitch black. He didn't bother taking out his wand, as he knew from experience that it he couldn't cast a light bright enough to break though this darkness._

Severus jumped as he woke, causing Harry to start and fall off the bed. Helping his son off the floor, Severus looked at him sadly.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, and Severus closed his eyes, not knowing how to explain this. "Is it the potion? Do you need something to counteract it?"

"No," Severus answered. "I do believe we need to talk, though."

"Do you remember?"

"Yes. And you are not going to like it. _I_ don't like it."

Harry sat back down on the bed, cross-legged and looking at his father expectantly.

"I made an agreement with them, first when I was 13. They had contacted me when I first decided to explore the Forbidden Dungeon. They offered me power for what I could do for them, and I agreed.

"The jobs were not that complicated at first. Basically, it was introducing a select few to the Forbidden Dungeon. Perhaps there were other jobs, but I don't remember them. That was how they worked. Once you agreed to work for them, you always did their work, even if you didn't know it.

"When I got older, the jobs started getting more complicated. The ones I remember, anyway. The . . . the potion that Enyami tried to use on you. I . . . invented it. Perhaps that was why it was so easy for me to produce a counter potion to it."

"What?!" Harry asked, and Severus held up his hand to quiet Harry."

"Try to understand from my point of view at that time, Harry," Severus said quietly. "There are many things I would change if I could.

"I . . . agreed to something, though. I doubt my agreement made any difference in the matter, as I would have still had to do it, but . . . Harry, the Voices are using you because I agreed that they could 'have' my son."

"What?!" Harry yelled, even louder. "You–."

"I did not plan on having any children at the time," Severus interrupted him. "I expected that agreement to fall through."

"You _gave_ me to _them!_" Harry shouted, angry. "You sacrificed your future son," he continued, much quieter, refusing to look at his father. In a way, he understood what his father did and why he did it, but it still hurt. It made sense now, though. The help in his studies at Headquarters, them getting along . . . he did it because of the Voices, not because he cared about him.

A part of Harry knew he was being unreasonable. If Severus didn't care about him, he wouldn't have told him, after all, but he couldn't help but think how much of what Severus did for him was because they were family or because of the Voices.

Standing up, Harry headed for the closed door, pausing in opening it.

"We're leaving," Harry said before he went off to find his aunt to spew some fake excuse at her for why they had to leave immediately.

An hour later, Harry was in his rooms in the dark, hiding under his covers in case someone tried to look for him. Not that they could get into the room, anyway since no one knew the password, but he felt better in a tight, dark spot.

Harry couldn't help feeling betrayed. He couldn't help a lot of things at this moment, actually. He needed to talk to someone about what he was feeling, but he didn't want to go to any of his friends. Hermione and Ron . . . and even Ginny. They wouldn't understand.

After laying in his bed thinking about that and other things for a few hours, Harry finally decided to talk to Dumbledore. Getting up and making sure he didn't look too horrible, Harry left his room to make his way to the headmaster's office.

He didn't make it more than a few feet out his door, though.

"Malfoy!" Harry hissed, and the blonde boy stared cooling at him.

"Problems, Potter? I thought you'd be off somewhere with your daddy, crying like a baby," Malfoy sneered, and Harry glared at him with wand ready in his hand.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Nothing," the Slytherin said. "But since we're both here, I might as well tell you. Be careful who you go after, because it could very well mean your life."

"If you don't have any point, Malfoy, I suggest you leave," Harry said flatly, annoyed at the threat.

"Oh, I was just leaving," Malfoy said almost cheerfully and continued to walk down the corridor. Harry was about to continue along to Dumbledore's office, which was in the opposite direction that Malfoy was going, but he stopped, taking out his invisibility cloak out of his bag when he was sure Malfoy had turned the corner. Throwing it on, Harry went in the direction Malfoy went and soon caught up with him.

He followed him into the dungeons, past Severus' lab and to that door Harry found the Slytherin hanging around before. Now, though, he was close enough that if he was careful, he could get into the room.

Harry watched as Malfoy looked around and cast a few silent charms, being careful to remember the wand movements in case he could look them up later. When Malfoy opened the door, Harry got as close as he could without alerting the boy and shoved part of his cloak in the door while it was closing. Hopefully it would work.

Harry waited for a minute before very slowly opening the door, hoping not to alert Malfoy. Peering in, and making sure his cloak was covering him entirely, he slide in, glad that Malfoy's back was nearly to him. Closing the door silently and completely, and once again checking that Malfoy wasn't looking toward the door, he made sure he could open it from this side. He hoped to Merlin that he would be able to get out again once Malfoy left, because he was sure that there was no way he was going to be able to look around with Malfoy in the room.

What he saw was surprise though. It really wasn't a room. It was more like a very dark, creepy forest, similar to the Forbidden Forest but when an even creepier feeling. There were no indications that they were inside except for the door they came through. What should have been the stone walls was instead solid rock that you would find in an underground cave.

Harry started when Malfoy started walking toward him, and he made sure to very quietly move out of the way of the door. Two minutes after Malfoy left, Harry breathed once again and moved toward the few cauldrons that were scattered in the center of the 'room'. Reading the marked books beside each cauldron (Malfoy clearly didn't seem to think anyone would be able to get in there because he just left everything he had laying about) and then uncovered each cauldron.

Two of the potions seemed finished, while two of them were still simmering. Throwing off his invisibility cloak, Harry took four vials out of his backpack, labeled them with their names, and filled them. Next, he made copies of the pages that the potions were on, and copied down the name of the books. Harry had never heard of them, but it was very possible that Severus had.

Not wanting to think about his father, Harry shoved, carefully of course, all he collected into his bag, recovered the cauldrons and made sure everything was in the places that Malfoy left them. Then, he took a quick stroll around the room to make sure he wasn't missing anything before heading toward the door.

He stopped before opening the door, trying to feel for any wards that could be placed on this side. When he didn't feel anything, he threw on his invisibility cloak and opened the door slowly. When he was sure no one was there, he left quickly and when he reached Severus' lab, he took off the cloak and shoved it into his bag.

Harry told the password to the gargoyle once he got there and knocked on the headmaster's door. He entered when he heard a "come in!" from inside.

"Harry!" Dumbledore said, and Harry stopped in the doorway when he saw Severus sitting across from the old man. Severus refused to look up and Harry couldn't look away.

"I will be going now," Severus said, standing up.

"Just wait outside, Severus. I do believe we have more to talk about."

"Of course," Severus sighed before leaving.

"You must understand, Harry, that your father feels horrible about the decisions he made," Dumbledore said after Severus left and closed the door. Harry just stood there staring at the old man, leaving back against the door. "Severus and I have been talking for the past couple hours, and we think we have some of what is going on figured out. The Voices have more than likely been around for awhile, but we have yet to understand why they are here. You and Severus are not the first ones to be used.

"Unfortunately, now that we know what is down in the dungeon, and that it has more control over us than us over them . . . we might have to close down that entire area of Hogwarts to ensure that they cannot reach out to anyway. Be assured that more research will be done on this."

Harry continued to stay silent. Now that he was here with Dumbledore, he honestly did not want to talk about this with him. So, instead of talking about how he felt about what his father had done, he decided to change the topic.

"I followed Malfoy," he said. "I got into that room." Taking out the lists and potions, Harry put them down on the desk. "I just thought you'd want to know. That's what I found."

Before Dumbledore could say anything, Harry left quickly, not daring to look at Severus as he passed him. He'll talk to Severus later. Right now, he just needed time to think about it on his own.


	14. 2: Conversation and Thought

**Thanks to: ****luvbooks****Delaine****SensiblyTainted****, honore, ****witherwings1972****blue artemis****bandgeekforlife****Pip3****Utena-Puchiko-nyu****Beth5572****DiamondOfTheMoon****LandUnderWave****KimSpiritTalks****Moira-girl****, Alexis, and ****jmljasmine**** for the reviews. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: The next chapter will be up sooner. I hope. When I started this chapter, I was in a good mood for a lot of argument . . . but, well, you'll see. **

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 14 - Conversation and Thought**

Severus walked into the headmaster's office after Harry left without looking at him. When Harry had arrived at Albus' office, he had assumed that Harry wanted to talk to the old wizard about what happened, but with the length of time he was in there, he now doubted that. Had he ruined his chances of getting along with his son ever again? He hoped that Harry would come to understand, and even though his mind told him that the chances of that happening were good, there was still doubt in his mind.

"Severus, sit," Albus greeted again, and Severus retook his seat.

"Did Harry say anything?" Severus asked.

"No. He only looked blankly at me while I tried explaining."

"Then why did he come?"

"Relax, Severus," Albus answered in a sad yet hopeful manner. "I believe he will come around soon. He always does."

"He came here for a reason," Severus stated persistently, and Albus gave a small laugh.

"Yes. He came to give me news on that room that young Mr. Malfoy has warded. He took samples from the potions he was making which are in the vials in front of you and he got this information." He handed Severus the small stack of parchment he received from Harry, and Severus looked through them.

"These are especially dangerous potions. I'm surprised that Malfoy would be able to brew them. Harry would have trouble, and he almost has a masters."

"Really, Severus?" Albus asked.

"Yes. He has learned at an extremely accelerated rated. Only . . ."

"Yes?"

"I fear I have only been pushing him because of . . ."

"What is it, Severus?" Albus asked when Severus suddenly stopped.

"How is it that I can talk about the Voices, but Harry cannot?"

"Perhaps it is of different circumstances?"

"Perhaps . . ." Severus replied, thinking.

"Back to the potions. I would like to you look through that material a bit. Perhaps talk it over with Harry in the case that he didn't write something down, or in the case he has been having more visions . . ."

"He hasn't, as far as I know, but I'll ask. Or try."

"Any further on trying to rid him of the Phantom Mark?"

"Unfortunately, no," Severus said shortly, and Albus nodded. "Anything else we must talk about?"

"I can think of nothing," Albus answered.

"Then good day, Albus. I have much to work on now."

"Good day, Severus."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssss

Harry was planning on walking to his room immediately, but he ended up wandering around the castle instead, for at least two reasons. One, no one would be able to find him easily if he kept moving, and two, walking helped him think. He wanted to fly, but he would be spotted to easily.

It really wasn't fair. He knew he wasn't being fair to Severus, to his father, either, but he couldn't help it. Severus willingly gave his son's life . . . _his_ life . . . to the Voices without thinking of the consequences if he had a child. And from what it seemed like, the control wasn't even on a conscious level. He could be doing the Voices bidding at any time, and he could think it was really of his own choice.

_Who _are_ they?_ Harry asked himself after a few hours of mindless wandering. Noticing he was in the dungeons, and that it had to be close to or past curfew, he made up his mind and continued in the direction of Severus' rooms.

When he got there, Severus still wasn't, so he went to his room, changed into his pajamas (it ended up being much later than he thought it was), grabbed a random one of his father's books and sat on a couch in the common area.

The book ended up being a somewhat interesting potions book, having to do with the theory behind connection potions; connections similar to how his scar and the Dark Mark connected him and other people to Voldemort. There wasn't much success in making these potions work, though, so the book described the effects of the potions that _did_ work, and how the potions that didn't _should_, and possible explanations on why they don't.

It wasn't a very long book, and Harry had finished it before Severus got to the room, and he was looking over Severus' potions books for similar texts when his father entered. He heard the man open the door, pause, and quietly shut the door, and Harry just stood facing the shelves, feeling too nervous to actually face the man. Finally, he got up his courage and turned around.

"I think I found the topic I want my final project for potions," he said, pointing to the book on the table. Severus walked over, picked the tome and nodded.

"I will give you the requirements for your final project soon so you may start it," he answered, sounding disconnected. He watched, feeling just as disconnected at the moment, as his father put the book back on the table and sat on the sofa awkwardly. Not knowing what else to do, he walked over and sat next to him, facing him.

"If I had any intention of having children, I would never have agreed to it," Severus said quietly. Harry didn't answer immediately, trying to figure out _how_ he wanted to say what he was going to say.

"They probably still would have made you do it anyway," Harry argued, getting a small . . . _look_ from his father.

"Don't try to make it sound better than it was, Harry. I made it mistake. One that is irreversible. The more I have thought about it, the more I realize they must have needed me to agree. Everything else they have asked of me – what I can remember – has been my actions. I have not, for as much as I can remember, been forced to do something that would take the control out of someone else's hands. But . . . as you are of my blood, my child, I . . ."

He didn't have to finish as Harry knew what had happened.

"It's possible that a lot of the decisions I made were because of my association with these . . . Voices. Everything from sleeping with Lily to taking over most of your studies."

"The potion –."

"I doubt the potion would stop any influences they have," Severus declared.

"But it removed the memory suppressions," Harry pointed out. "You took a _lot_ of it. Maybe it stopped the connection . . ."

"Again, I doubt they would leave themselves that open to resistance. I created the original potions, so it was relatively easy, with help, to create a counter potion. The memories were obviously always there, just hidden from my conscious mind. But the original potion did not strengthen the influences, just allowed for the drinker to hear the Voices outside the Restricted Dungeon."

"But it helped some," Harry asked for clarification.

"Yes."

"Can I do that, then? Maybe I . . . you know," Harry said, finishing his sentence vaguely because he wasn't able to talk about it. "Do you think it's safe?"

"I took it, and so far there haven't been any harsh side effects."

"_No_, I mean, to talk."

"No, I don't think it is. I do not know where their power lies."

Both sat in silence for awhile. While Severus was thinking about the counter Voice potion, Harry had moved onto other thoughts.

"Do you think they influenced your feelings toward me?" Harry asked quietly, now sitting further away from Severus on the couch, using the arm as a backrest and sitting cross-legged.

"How do you mean?" Severus asked, and Harry shrugged, acting like it was no big deal.

"You know, like . . . you caring about me? I mean, you never wanted kids before, and you were very keen to pretend I _wasn't_ your son, even after you found out. What if the only reason you think you care about me is because they _want _you to."

"You are my son, Harry," Severus said immediately, but when Harry gave him a disbelieving look, he stopped to think about what the young wizard said. "I don't care under what pretenses we came to like each other under, Harry."

"But . . ."

"No. When I found out you were my son, I was disbelieving at first. You were supposed to be Harry Potter, replica of James Potter. You were supposed to be irresponsible–."

"Which you say I am, still," Harry interrupted.

"You were supposed to be a prat who cared about nothing but his own pleasures and gains and enjoyed tormenting others for entertainment," he continued flatly. "I knew that _you_ knew of our relationship, and since you choice not to acknowledge it that you had no want to be related to one of your father's childhood enemies. It was not because I had no wish to have a child. I must admit, that for a few years I _had_ given thought to finding someone to have child with. Finding you ended up being more convenient, though, as I do not see myself as a husband."

"But maybe you had these feelings because of the Voices, though. You said you had no intention, whatsoever, of having children –."

"I was a teenager, then, Harry. A lot can change a person over the years, especially when you become lonely. But as for your theory, we may never know. But that doesn't change our relationship now." Severus reached toward Harry and ran his fingers through his son's long hair. The boy insisted on keeping it chin length, with fringe to cover his scar, and it had a wave to it now that Severus' never had. Although the charms that Lily had place on Harry were only supposed to take a year to fade, every so often, Severus found another trait that seemed to fade in. The wave, for instance, only showed up a few weeks ago.

Looking carefully at his son, he smiled sadly. He knew that even as a teenager, if he knew that he would be destined to have a child because of the agreement with the Voices, he would never have agreed. He wanted to be known, yes, and his younger self was willing to sacrifice his own freedom, but he never wanted to be responsible for others unwillingly sacrificing theirs.

Not that he ever gave much thought to it, before. He had hurt many people when working for the Voices and the Dark Lord, and whether or not those decisions were influenced by the Voices, he felt as if they were fully his decisions. He chose to do those dark things. It was his decision in the first place to get involved with them. They made the offer, and he accepted.

But Harry had no choice in the matter.

"We'll figure this out, right, dad?" Harry asked. "I mean, we've figured it out this far, we _have_ to figure it out eventually, right?"

"I hope so, Harry," Severus sighed. Harry moved so he could lean on his father.

"You know, sometimes I just wish some things had just turned out different," Harry commented vaguely.

"How do you mean?" Severus asked. For the second time that night, Harry realized, but he decided to point that out later.

"Like . . . what would have happened if my mom _didn't_ keep the fact that I was yours hidden. My . . . _James_ would have been angry, but . . . maybe things would have turned out for the better."

"Maybe not. It is quite possible that it would have turned out for the worse. After all, I apparently have an obligation to get you ready for . . . the Voices. It is possible that we would never have found out about the Voices, or I would have raised you – if I raised you alone – to obey the Voices." Harry have a small humph after he listened to what his father had to say on the matter.

"You _had_ to ruin my fantasy," Harry responded half sulkily, half playful, then he sighed heavily. "I just wish things weren't so hard all the time."

Severus didn't reply, but Harry knew from the feeling coming from his father that he agreed fully heartedly.

"Not everyone realizes that a life full of challenges can be anything but a good thing," Severus said aloud, losing Harry from his track of thought. He just gave Harry another sad smile at the confused boy's look. "I think it's time for bed."


	15. 2: A Break of Life

**Thanks to: honore, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, and bandgeekforlife for the reviews. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: Ha! Two chapters in less than twenty-four hours! I was going to wait to put this up, but I decided I'd do it sooner. My quickest update . . . _ever_, probably. Of course, just when I get into writing, my spring break has to end. Good news, though, as I'll be at a hotel all night tomorrow, I'll most likely be writing. Maybe another update, soon. **

**I stole a character from another one of my stories, Camstar, who, for those of you who doesn't read Brothers By Blood, is the Ancient Runes professor. You get more history about her here, though. I decided it'd be easier to have the same character, as they don't influence the story that much and it wouldn't be that hard to get them confused. Less background work for me :) Enjoy! **

**Oh, and it would be nice (only I NEVER ask for reviews, so this will be my first, and probably last time I ask. Please?) to know who of you are actually still reading this, as I haven't updated in awhile. It's not my fault, really! University takes a lot of your life away. Especially chemistry. I also try to get the chapters I beta out before I work on my stories (by the way, go read Chailyn Cole Runewood stuff :) ) because . . . I'm just that way. **

**And, for those of you reading It Starts as a Summer, I'm temporarily stuck, despite the fact I have so much planned out. It still might be awhile for me to update that one because I might go back and rework a few things and perhaps rewrite a few bits.**

**Sorry for the long authors note. I figured I'd get this out of the way. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 15 - A Break of Life**

Harry and Severus walked side by side to the headmaster's tower. It was two in the afternoon, but both had slept until Dumbledore had woken them up by an annoying message calling them for a meeting about an hour ago. Neither really knew what the old man had to say, but they were sure it had to do with something about them angry with each other.

Not that they were anymore, so any attempt the headmaster was planning would be pointless.

Dumbledore was waiting behind his desk, three cups of tea waiting to be drunk. Sitting down, Dumbledore gave them a bright smile.

"Everything worked out between you two, I assume?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"Yes," Severus answered flatly as Harry nodded. "If not to . . . reconcile us, what is this meeting about?"

"No need to be impatient, Severus. All will be spoken in due time." As Severus' glare as a catalyst, Dumbledore continued. "I was talking to Professor Camstar . . ."

"Who?" Harry asked, then remembered: Ancient Runes professor. "Nevermind."

"As I was saying," Dumbledore proceeded, "I was speaking with Professor Camstar, and she did have a suggestion. I am unsure as to whether you two would agree with it."

"What is the suggestion?"

"Perhaps by cutting off from this plane, it would be enough to cut off any connections to the Voices."

Both Harry and Severus quietly thought of what this implied.

"By cutting us off from this plane, you mean . . ."

"A short, temporary death." Albus let this settle in before he continued. "Your body would be dead for a mere few seconds, and you would be revived before your soul could detach itself from your body."

"How would this sever the connection between us and the Voice?" Harry asked, confused.

"It might not. It is merely a guess. How death works, in both in wizarding world and the muggle world, is that when your body stops working, you are considered dead, and takes into no considered whether or not there is a soul connected to that body. It is the reason why those who have been kissed by a dementor are still considered alive."

"Oh," Harry answered, trying to work out how that was relevant.

"Any magical indicators are also set to when the body dies, not the soul separating. We are hoping that when Hogwarts feels your bodies dead, it will be enough for the Voices to lose interest in you."

"And how will this be done?" Severus ask, cutting off Harry before he could speak. "It seems to me as very problematic."

"It will be, but Professor Camstar has assured me that it has been done before. She should be here soon. What is your decision? Or would you like to talk about it some?"

"I will do it, but Harry will not . . ." Severus started, but Harry, suddenly angry by this announcement, didn't let him finish.

"Why not? So you're just going to let me–." Severus held up his hand, and Harry, after looking at his father's face, stopped.

"You will not try it until we are sure that it can be done."

"No," Harry said, blushing. "It will work. After all, we won't be totally dead," he argued.

"We don't know that," Severus snapped, and Harry sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"And if it doesn't work?" Harry reasoned. "What then? You die and I'm left without a father – again. We _both_ need to do this."

"That is true," Camstar said, walking into the office. "The most reliable form of the ritual needs two people. It is assumed that there is more to ground them to the earth when they leave this plane, but the real reason is unknown. Rest assured, no one has died during a double before. The percent that work for singles is about 78 percent."

Harry, knowing that Severus would have to agree now, kept his arms crossed, but he gave his father a smirk.

"And you know what you are doing?" Severus snarled, disgusted that he had lost the battle so easily.

"Of course," she answered, and Severus looked at her suspiciously. "I have never done a spell exactly like this, but a few similar, while I was working at St. Mungos."

"Why did you leave St. Mungos?" Harry asked, also suspicious, but for a different reason. "You weren't . . . kicked out or anything, were you?"

"No, no. I've always like teaching, and I was offered a job here, so I took it. It's much more enjoyable," she answered, and Harry nodded, understanding. Severus gave her a disbelieving look, as if he doubted she actually _enjoyed_ teaching children over working in a magical hospital.

"What _exactly_ does this ritual entail?" Severus asked.

Two hours later, Dumbledore, Camstar, Severus and Harry were all in a closed off room on the sixth floor, preparing. Severus and Harry both worked on the potion that was to be used to 'kill' them, which was to be done in a few minutes. Camstar was carefully writing out a spell of runes in a circle on the floor with chalk. She said the chalk was spelled, too, but plain chalk would work. The spelled chalk offered extra protection from free spirits during the time their bodies were uninhabited.

That's what Harry was most worried about, even more so than the ritual backfiring that would cause them to die. The _last_ thing he wanted was for some spirit to decide to take over his body. All of the adults reassured him that such an occurrence was rare, and if it _did_ happen, both Albus and Camstar were prepared to get rid of the spirit.

"But there's protection spells woven into the chalk that prevent that from happening, anyway. There is nothing to be worried about," she said, finishing up the runework and standing up. Dumbledore was still going over the book, memorizing what was to be said.

When Camstar started putting a wall of candles on the outer edge of the runework circle, Harry gave her an odd look.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"Physical barrier, mostly," she said, tossing him one of the pillars. There were more runes carved into it, covering most of the candle. "And it provides more protection."

"Oh," Harry answered.

"It just helps to ensure a ritual done correctly. You haven't had much ritual work?"

"No," Harry answered. "None, actually."

"I do believe your class is one of the few that teaches anything about rituals," Dumbledore said, putting the book down, open, on the makeshift altar.

"The magic in rituals themselves is actually quite simple," Camstar started lecturing, but Severus wouldn't let her continue.

"I would like to get this done sooner than later," he said flatly. "You can lecture on the 'wonders of rituals' at a later time."

"Of course," Camstar answered, acting slightly affronted. "You two need to get in, so I can finish the circle. It shouldn't be broken unless there is an emergency. Is the potion done?"

"Yes. It just needs to cool," Harry answered.

"Good," she nodded. "Once it's cool, you'll each need to fill a large vial and bring it in with you into the circle. A few minutes later, the potion was cool enough to bottle, and soon both Snapes were inside, with Camstar finishing the circle. Harry watched with interest, his mind now thinking of how rituals could be involved with his final project. Maybe you needed more than a potion for the potion to actually work . . .

"Ready?" Severus asked, bringing Harry out of his thoughts. Both Camstar and Dumbledore answered in the affirmative, and Harry shrugged.

"As much as I'm going to be, I suppose," he answered.

"Good," Camstar answered. "Now, the headmaster and I are going to begin the spell. When I indicate you should do so, take the potion. Do not take it before I say, or this might not work."

Holding the vial of his potion carefully, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to his father, Harry listen as the two outside the circle began speaking. Harry guessed it was Latin.

Time seemed to freeze for Harry, and it seemed like an eternity before Camstar indicated that they should take the potion. Slowly bringing the potion, the poison, to his lips, Harry gulped down the contents of the large vial, barely noticing that Severus was doing the same.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssss

Harry woke in a bed on his stomach, his covers messed. Disoriented, Harry sat up, knocking most of his covers off the bed, and looked around. The room, despite the fact that he had never seen it before, felt familiar. It was then that he remembered he where he was supposed to be.

"Dad?" he asked, quietly. "Dad? Dad!"

"Honey," Harry heard a voice, a female voice, say. "Your father is sleeping. He's had a very busy night, what with research. Now, I'm off to work, and I'll be gone for two days. I better not hear that you two ate out for both meals!"

Harry, confused and excited, jumped out of bed, nearly falling from being trapped by the covers, ran out of the room to see if it was who he thought it was.

"Mom?" he called, walking through the hallway to the top of the stairs.

"Yes?" she asked, and Harry stopped, startled, when she turned around and saw her face. It was her. Lily. His mother. Older than she was in any of the pictures he had of her, but it was definitely her. _What's going on?_ he wondered, and he stopped himself before he could run down and give her a hug. He wasn't sure if this was real. They were supposed to wake up in that empty room. _Am I dead_? he wondered.

"Bye," he answered as Lily was about to ask what was wrong. "Be careful."

"Of course, Braidon," she answered, giving him a weird look. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, just woke up, you know?" he answered, and she nodded before leaving his sight. Once he was sure she was out of the house, his goal was finding Severus.

"Dad! Where _are_ you?" he asked, searching the rooms. Before he finished, though, he must have finally woken up because he realized where he was. He was at Snape Manor! Immediately, he turned and ran to the room his father claimed during the summer, barging in without knocking. _That _turned out to not be such a good idea. His father was near his wardrobe, completely naked and probably looking for clothes. Immediately, Harry turned around, closed the door, and sat down in the hallway.

A minute later, Severus opened the door and pulled Harry in, closing the door hard.

"Hey!" Harry complained.

"Harry . . . or, I'm guessing, Braidon . . ."

"She called me Braidon. What's going on? Are we dead? And _why_ did she call me Braidon. Am I someone different?"

"No, you look exactly as you did. As for whether or not we are dead, I am not sure. If we were, for good, then I am sure that we would not be like this. It doesn't feel . . ."

"Right? For being dead, anyway? So, what happened?"

"Perhaps a spell backfire?" Severus asked. "But until we figure this out, we need to play along. This could be more than just a backfire."

"You think it was a trap?"

"Maybe. Just . . . play along."

"You know, my room isn't my room. I woke up in a room a few doors down."

"From what I've gathered in the past . . . ten minutes," he said, checking the time, "this appears to be an alternate reality. One where . . . where I've married your mother."

That stunned Harry into silence. That guess was at the edge of his mind since he saw his mother, and enforced when he saw Severus, but . . .

"So, we're going to find out what happened if she _did_ tell you?"

"Possibly," Severus answered flatly. "But don't get your hopes up."

Harry was about to respond when the doorbell rang. Harry automatically stood to get it, but Severus stopped him.

"You are not even dressed, Harry . . . _Braidon_. I will get it."

"I think I'm expecting someone," Harry answered, getting an unbelieving look from his father. "I'm going to go get dressed." He followed Severus out, turning toward his room.

SSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssss

"It Braidon here?" the girl asked as Severus opened the door.

"He just woke up. He is getting dressed," Severus answered flatly. "Come in."

The girl walked in and turned to face Severus.

"You must be Braidon's father," she said, holding out her hand to shake. "I'm Krissa." Severus took the handshake and observed the girl. She was small, a few inches above five feet, with dirty blond hair. Her eye makeup was in a dark shade, almost black, but other than that, she appeared makeup-free. "You haven't been here whenever I've come over. Braidon said you work a lot."

"I am busy most of the time," Severus answered. "How did you and Braidon meet?"

"At one of the neighborhood soccer games. We were actually on opposite teams," she said with a little laugh. "Went for the ball at the same time and we nearly killed each other. I forgot that you were out of town that week. It was during that time when we were both in the hospital for most the day. He came out better than I did. I had to get stitches in my arm."

"All because you went after the ball at the same time?"

"Yeah. It was a little weird."

"Hi," Harry said from the middle of the stairs.

"Krissa was telling me how you two met," Severus said, giving Harry a hint as to what this girl's name was in case he didn't know. Chances were that he didn't.

"Yeah," Harry said, wincing. "That was a painful game." Severus assumed that he overhead that part of the conversation.

"Bye. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Snape," Krissa said, walking toward Harry, and Severus was tempted to stop them, but then stopped himself, deciding just to give Harry a warning look, which he answered with a mere shrug. Apparently, he didn't know what to think of this girl, either.

He watched as the two went of the stairs, wondering what he had missed in the universe, and wondering how much he saw his 'wife'. According to the few minutes they were talking before she left, he had only came home last night and she left this morning for her job.

He couldn't help but wonder how happy _any_ of them were in this life. He wasn't sure, but he felt that the accident Krissa was talking about was several months ago, and if he was just meeting this girl now . . . and she seemed a little too 'girly', as Harry called girls like that, for his son's taste. In fact, last time he checked (yes, he did ask), Harry wasn't interested in finding a girl friend. It must be different in this reality.

For the lack of anything better to do, and for the lack of not knowing what he was _supposed_ to do, Severus went to the library to try and figure out what happened.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssss

"So, Braidon, what do you want to do?" Krissa said, sitting on Harry's bed.

"I don't know."

"Do you think your dad will allow us to watch a film? I know you said he's strict about the rules of the telly, but I brought a good movie . . . I saw it with Clara, and we both loved it."

"Not a romance, I hope," Harry answered.

"No, of course not. It's horror, actually. Witches fighting demons. It's right in your league, too. I heard that's accurate, mostly, on wiccan stuff."

"I'll go ask," Harry said. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," she answered, digging through the bag she brought. Harry left his room and went to the first place he could think that Severus might be: the library. It was where he usually went when something confused him. Of course, he was there.

"Can Krissa and I watch a film?" Harry asked, and Severus looked at his oddly.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know what else we're supposed to do. Do you think she's my girlfriend?"

"I would assume so. Can I trust you too alone?"

"Of course!" Harry answered, offended. "The film?"

"I suppose," Severus answered, going back to the book he was flipping through. Harry was almost to the library door when he remembered something.

"Where, exactly, is the telly?" he asked, and Severus shook his head.

"I would suggest finding it _before_ you fetch your _girlfriend_," his father sneered playfully, and Harry left to begin his search.


	16. 2: A Dream Come True Right?

**Thanks to: ****Utena-Puchiko-nyu****IckleHermykins****Delaine****Arwen-Evenstar-Elf****Alexis8907****DiamondOfTheMoon****Freedom is Wind****LivingStoneLily****blue artemis****Beth5572****BatteredChild****honore****Saphira Arya Potter****Thorsten P. Ziegler****Selene Malfoy Lupin****, and ****KimSpiritTalks**** for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: If it was up to me, I'd update this quick all the time, but alas, it is the last day of spring break. I will try to update regularly, though. I didn't bother checking for many errors today, because I'm really tired and I wanted to get this up. I'll look over it later.**

**_Also, as I am too short on time to edit my stories as well as I would like to, I am looking for a beta who is familiar with my work and writing style. Said beta(s) will be helping me go through all old chapters/stories and new chapters and stories. I wish to go through some of my older work and work out inconsistencies, errors, so on . . . I am willing to have more than one beta, if necessary because I've written (and am continuing to write) quite a bit. Please PM/E-Mail me with an example or explanation of your beta-ing style if you are interested._**

**I don't know how many of you will like the revelation that is come to in this chapter, but I am trying to make it realistic.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 16 - It's a Dream Come True . . . Right?**

Severus was still looking through the books in the library, without much luck. His library in this world was seemingly lacking. Of course, he didn't have much on alternate universes in his personal library in the other world. He usually used the Hogwarts library.

_And why am I not at Hogwarts?_ he wondered, and he was about to look for a newspaper to check the date when the phone rang, startling him. He hadn't heard a phone ring since he was seventeen years old, so it was a little unexpected.

It rang a few times before Severus decided he should get it, but by the time he got out of the library, the ringing had stopped.

"Dad? It's for you," he heard Harry say his son handed it off to him, and h put it to his ear.

"Yes?" he asked.

"We've got it, Severus. We've got the ingredient. It needs to sit for a few days, though. Be at the lab on September 2nd?" the man on the other end of the line asked.

"That will work," Severus replied.

"Good. See you then," the man said and he hung up right away.

"I must not work at Hogwarts," he said to himself, then went to go find the day's paper so he could find out the exact date. It was irritating not to know, since he _always_ knew what the date was. Right now, he wasn't even sure of the day. There was a familiar muggle newspaper, _The Clorsa Advocate_ on the kitchen table that read the date Thursday, August 29th. So he had four days to figure out what his job was. That shouldn't be too hard, as he had to have the information around somewhere. Harry came in a few minutes later while Severus was glancing through the news.

"Anything good?" Harry asked.

"Not particularly. Where's your girlfriend?"

"She had to go, which is fine by me," Harry said. "She's kind of annoying. I mean, she's kinda girly . . . like Cho was."

"Perhaps your choice of girls is different in this world," Severus commented.

"Obviously. I'm hungry. What's there to eat?"

"I have not looked. I hope mom's back before I have to go back to Hogwarts. Since you are not there yet, I'm assuming you don't work there . . ."

"I am assuming. Are you sure it is Hogwarts you go to?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Where else would I be going. Anyway, I checked after Krissa left, because she was all weepy that I have to go back to school. All my Hogwarts stuff, including the current letter, is in my trunk. Do you know when mom's going to be back, exactly?"

"No," Severus replied flatly. "She said something about being back before you go, which I was unclear _where_ while we were talking."

"Oh. I was hoping to . . . you know . . . get to know her a bit," Harry answered, a bit disappointed.

"If it is any consolation, she might not be the person you think she is, what with your taste in girls," Severus said.

"It's not," he answered, pulling ham and cheese out of the refrigerator, then began his search for bread, which he found in a box on the counter.

"Hopefully, we won't be here much longer," Severus commented as he went by Harry to start making his own sandwich.

"Huh?" Harry asked.

"Do you remember anything that happened before we woke here?" Severus asked.

"Yeah. We drank that poison stuff . . . you don't think we're dead, do you?"

"You asked that already," Severus replied flatly. "No. Something else is going on here, but I can't think what. Perhaps something in the spell was wrong."

"Or maybe we're just dead," Harry shrugged. "If this is what it's like to be dead, I don't mind." Severus grabbed Harry's arm briefly.

"Don't think like that," he snapped, and Harry rolled his eyes. "What is wrong with you? You are acting different than you usually do."

"Maybe I'm acting like I should . . . like I do here."

"Well, don't. I need you to keep aware of what really happened. There is a possibility that this world will try to erase our previous memories.

"Which would be bad," Harry said seriously, and Severus glared at him.

"When you go back to Hogwarts, if we are still here, I need you to talk to the Headmaster and do some research –."

"Why don't you talk to him yourself?" Harry asked.

"Because I am unsure what our relationship is here. In fact, I have no idea whether the Dark Lord is still around, or whether I . . ." he trailed off, brushing his son's hair aside. "You don't have a scar."

"What?" Harry asked, then ran off to find a mirror. While he was gone, Severus pulled up his sleeve. The Dark Mark was there. Sighing, he lowered his sleeve. That meant the Dark Lord was still around, but he had no idea whether or not he followed him in this world. The Lily in their world would have refused, no matter he consequences, he was sure, but . . .

If he was called, was he to go? And if he was, was he spying on the Dark Lord? Just a follower? Suddenly, he made his decision. He wouldn't go. Somehow, he felt like he shouldn't, and it wouldn't matter anyway. This was not their world. It had to be some type of dream or other.

Even though he told himself it was just a dream, he wasn't so sure. Their souls, because of the poison and spell, were stripped from the bodies. No one was sure where souls went after people died, the veil was a merely a guess. Or perhaps some sort of spiritual transfer? It _was_ possible that, somehow, their souls and the souls of themselves in this world switched. Possibly.

Severus felt as if he was grasping for any small theory that rush by his head. No matter what the thought up, they all seemed rather far fetching.

Harry came back into the room and went back to making his sandwich as Severus sat down at the small table (different than the one they had before) and began eating. Leaving the food out, Harry sat down across from his father and quickly ate the sandwich.

Two days later, in the morning, Severus didn't have any luck finding anything about their situation and was sitting with Harry in the library going over a list of things he needed to research and talk to Dumbledore about. Harry, barely listening as Severus explained things, more worried about when his mother was going to come home, as he left for Hogwarts tomorrow. Finishing up, Severus slide the list to his son, and he put it in his pocked.

"Let's do something," Harry said spontaneously.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. A walk or something. Something to do while we wait for mom . . ."

"You don't know if she's coming home today, Harry," Severus said, and Harry shook his head. Severus was wary, though. Something told him that Lily wasn't going to be back anytime soon.

"She _said_ two days," he replied, standing up. "I can't just sit here. Maybe flying instead of walking."

"Do you have a broom?" asked Severus, and Harry looked at him as if he was crazy.

"I _must_," Harry said forcibly.

"Well, I am sure that I _don't_ have a broom. Let's walk. You'll rid yourself of excess energy quicker by walking."

Harry sighed as his father stood up, and he followed him to the gardens.

By eleven at night, Lily still wasn't home, and Harry was starting to get nervous. Even though Severus told him to go to bed as he had to wake up for the train tomorrow, Harry sat in a room where he could hear any entry into the house, reading. He _wasn't _going to miss her.

At four in the morning, Harry was woken up by a door slamming, and he quickly stood up, still dizzy from just waking. Once he balanced himself, he walked to the entrance hall, where she was hanging up a muggle coat.

"Mum?" Harry asked, squinting because of the bright light.

"Braidon! What are you doing up?"

"Didn't want to miss you," he replied, shrugging. "I'm off to Hogwarts tomorrow."

"Of course," she said, coming closer and kissing his forehead. "But off to bed now. Don't want to fall asleep on the way there, now, do you?"

"Doesn't matter," Harry answered. "Why are you so late? I thought you'd be home by dinner."

"Oh, you know I'm never quite sure how long I'm going to be at work, honey. Now, get to bed," she said sternly, and Harry turned to go to his room (that still didn't feel like it was his. It wasn't even the right one!)

* * *

"Severus," Lily said once she closed the bedroom door. He was sitting on the bed, reading another potions manual. "Why wasn't Braidon in bed?"

"He wanted to wait up for you."

"I would have seen him in the morning," Lily snapped, irritated.

"Would you have? I have a feeling that you wouldn't," Severus said. He felt like taking it back, but somehow, it felt right, arguing with her like that. That had been happening more often, the longer he was here. He even had a few bits of memories that must have happened in this world. "When do you leave again?"

"Tomorrow morning," Lily answered roughly. "And yes, he would have seen me. I would have woken him up to say goodbye. I still will, in fact."

"Did you even know he had a girlfriend?" Severus asked, just as harshly.

"No," Lily said slowly. "I'm surprised you would know. You are rarely around, too."

"I am here more than you," Severus snarled, wondering how he knew that. "When was the last time you've had an actual conversation with Braidon? About _anything_?"

Lily didn't answer, and Severus went back to his reading, realizing that his instincts about his 'wife' were right. They were not happy being married. They must have gotten married solely because she was pregnant. Or there were other factors involved.

The next morning, Lily left, barely saying goodbye to a half-asleep son. An hour later, six in the morning, Harry came down the stairs, dressed but still mostly sleeping. Severus was sitting at the table, eating eggs and bacon. There was more on the stove, but Harry wasn't hungry.

"She doesn't like me, does she?" Harry asked sadly, and Severus didn't answer. "She didn't even wish me luck for the school year."

"She seems unhappy to me," Severus said, trying, unsuccessfully, to cheer up his son a bit. "She works a lot."

"As _what_, thought?" Harry asked, and Severus didn't have an answer.

"Well, you'll be on your way to Hogwarts in a few hours, and you will get to see your friends. Hopefully they won't be any different."

"I'm in Slytherin."

"What?"

Harry didn't answer immediately.

"I'm in Slytherin. My robes have the Slytherin badge on them. It looks like I'm Head Boy, though . . ." Harry shook his head when he saw his father smirk. "I knew you'd be happy. But I have no idea who my friends are! Merlin, I hope I'm not friends with Malfoy."

"I'm sure you'll realize once you see them. You are not having any memories from his world?"

"A few. Most of them involved Krissa, though," Harry said, blushing. "Not much of you or mom at all."

"I don't think we are around much," Severus commented, "as I just met your girlfriend of . . ."

"A year," Harry supplied.

"Your girlfriend of a year. Your mother didn't know either."

"I think _you_ knew," Harry said slowly. "You just hadn't met her. Anyway, everything of mine's packed," he changed the subject.

"Good."

Two and a half hours later, Harry was dragging his trunk down the stairs in a hurry. He had to go to the bathroom, and his father was probably waiting for him by the car. He found it funny how they had a car, but figured since his mother was muggleborn and Severus' father was a muggle, it was normal. Glad to see his father wasn't in the car, he ran back to the ground floor bathroom, running into Severus head on in the hallway.

"Watch where you are going, Harry, and don't run," he said dryly.

"Bathroom," Harry said quickly getting up, and was heading toward the bathroom again when his father stopped him.

"Change your jeans, they're dirty," Severus said, pulling Harry to the mirror when his son was about to protest and showed him. It was in an area that was hard to see without the mirror. Harry looked up in the mirror, and his eyes locked with the reflection of his father's . . .

Harry sat up, gasping for air. He felt cold, disconnected and like he couldn't breathe! Next to him, he heard heavy breathing and saw movement.

"It worked!" he heard a lady say, and it took him a second before he realized it was Camstar. Letting his eyes focus, he felt an odd sense of disappointment envelop him. He didn't really want to be back. He continued to sit, un-speaking, as Camstar and Dumbledore closed the circle, and he let his father stand him up.

"Is he okay?" Dumbledore asked.

"Harry?" Severus asked him, holding him close. The warmth felt good.

"I just want mom to be happy . . ." he said not quite yet fully aware, and Severus nodded in understanding.

"How long have we been out?" Severus asked.

"A few seconds only," Camstar answered, getting Harry's attention.

"Only? But it has been days!"

"Days? Oh. I suppose you've found yourself in another reality?" Camstar asked. "That happened with one of my . . . well, I suppose you'd call him a coworker. We had to do a similar ritual for him, one where he was out for an hour, and he had spent an entire year as a professor! He had been adopted into a different family, of course, but him! A professor! He hated kids with a passion in our reality, but he loved them in the other. It was so strange . . . That kind of occurs is rare, though. There has been no consistent reason behind it, either. Was it not good?"

Severus, looking at Harry, who was clinging to Severus.

"It was realistic," Severus said, squeezing Harry on the shoulder. Harry, back to reality once again, stood up straight.

"It could have been better," Harry answered, then decided to change the subject. "I'm really tired, though. I felt as if I only had a few hours of sleep."

"That's because you did. You might as well finish your homework," Severus declared, "then have an early night."

Sighing, Harry left the adults to clean up the mess from the ritual so he could finish his paper due in Transfiguration the next day. It wasn't as if he had excuse, now.


	17. 2: Missing

**Thanks to: ****Utena-Puchiko-nyu, Catti666, NebThauDragmire, Thorsten P. Ziegler, DiamondOfTheMoon, Alexis8907, honore, Beth5572, bandgeekforlife, Delaine, Selene Malfoy Lupin, and Saphira Arya Potter ****for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: Okay, I think I have a lot to say, but I've probably forgot most of it. First of all, this chapter starts to bring together the Professor Joa (the current Potions professor),Raven,Lex plot that was started in It's Mutual 1 (yes there WAS a point to them being in there). The majority of that plot won't be gotten to until (??) It's Mutual 3. **

**Second (wait just a second, I forgot . . .) . . . Oh, yeah. I have been working on all the It's Mutual stories and I have come to a decision. When I first started this story, I never intended it to have a sequel, but then I decided to split up the years. Now I realize that It's Mutual 1,2, and 3 are actually all one story, so you really need to read all three to get the entire story. When I have the story edited, it will appear as one story on any other site I post it on, aside from here. I'm not willing to loose review ;) Anyway, there will be an It's Mutual 4, but it will be a separate story that takes place after 3's events. Hmmm . . . that didn't make much sense. Well, it will be TWO years after Harry graduated and will have him deal with a new situation and he'll start looking at girls . . . . in _that_ way, instead of just as friends. So, it will partially be a romance. Wow, my first planned romance. Hmm . . .**

**I think there's one more thing . . . just a sec . . . Oh. I currently have three betas who are helping me with betaing already posted stuff. This chapter has NOT been beta'd by them . . . although the first chapter from It's Mutual I HAS been. With their help (they are listed in the first chapter, and will be thanked at the top of each chapter they beta . . .) I was able to expand the chapter from 5 to 8 pages. So it has more information. Check it out . . . **

**Sorry for the long A/N . . . read on. **

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 17 - Missing**

Harry stepped outside into the cold evening. The sun was beginning to set, but he thought he had about an hour of decent light to walk. The past two months had been calm: no Voices, no Aunt Marge, and no excess trouble making that he had to deal with. Their first quidditch game of the season took place about a month ago, against Slytherin, and the game was very close; Gryffindor won by only 10 points. Since then, Slytherin won against Hufflepuff.

He wasn't looking forward to this weekend, though. Friday was the last day of the term, and as soon as everyone left (according to Severus, only very few students were staying), they would be taking him off the Voice potion in order to see if the ritual from before worked. No more information on the Voices had been collect, simply because there was nothing recorded and Severus and Dumbledore deemed it too dangerous to attempt to go down there.

If the ritual didn't work, they would have to find something else. Severus was meeting him in his room in an hour an a half in order to go over theories of possible reasons why it might not have worked so they could try to find a possible solution to each; something he _wasn't_ looking forward too. In addition to quidditch, this Voice work, and his normal class work, Severus had been working him even harder than last year, if that was possible. He was working on his masters for potions, which he still felt was odd since he hadn't even taken his NEWTS yet (Severus wanted him to take the masters exam a week after he graduated) and they were working hard to remove the Phantom Mark. Which, although it had not gotten darker, was dark enough for anyone who recognized it to suspect him.

And, in addition to all that, he was working hard on his final project. All seventh years had a project of their choice that was presented at the end of the year, and Severus _insisted_ that he do something of importance as he research background would be perfect for the W.P.A.M. exam that he had to take to become a potions master.

Harry sighed, cast a warming charm on the rock overseeing the lake, and sat down. It was hard to believe that almost a year ago, Severus gave him his first Christmas gift. He hadn't been able to make it to Hogsmede to find a gift for his father, but it was just as well. He had _no_ idea what he was to get the man, and he knew that Severus wasn't expecting anything. In fact, he plainly said that Harry shouldn't be spending money on him.

He still wanted to get him _something_, though.

"Harry?" he heard from behind him and he turned to see Hermione standing a few meters away, her arms crossed. "It really is much too cold to be sitting out here," she said, but warmed more of the rock and sat down next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Just . . . I don't know, actually. Hermione, what if the ritual didn't work? What if _nothing_ works and I'm trapped doing the Voices' bidding until I die?"

He heard Hermione sigh, and she gave him a small hug for comfort, but she didn't answer. Looking over the frozen lake, he frowned and threw a small stone at it. It hit, sinking into the few centimeters of snow.

"It's too bad Necromancy is illegal. It sure would have it's uses for problems like this. I don't' think it'd do much good, though. Often times, you can't have a spirit occupying an already-dead body for more than a few days without it decaying quickly after. From what I have been able to read, it really doesn't bring anyone back to life, just allows their soul to take on a body . . . but there isn't much I can find on it."

"Hmm," Harry responded automatically before glancing at his watch and standing up. "I should go. Dad is meeting me in my room in a short bit and I should clean it before he gives me another lecture on the benefits of keeping everything organized."

"Well, you _should_ keep everything organized, Harry," Hermione said, taking the hand that Harry gave to help her stand up.

"I know where everything is," Harry replied with a mumble. "In any case, I have very little time to spend on cleaning and since I have my own room, the House Elves don't go through . . ."

Hermione pursed her lips to avoid commenting and Harry gave her a small smile. S.P.E.W. out of the way, she was still trying to convince the House Elves to talk to the headmaster about wages and such. Gryffindor tower was now kept much cleaner now that more house elves than just Dobby cleaned it.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, changing the subject. It was rare to see the two far from each other lately.

"Studying, actually," Hermione said, with a tone that was somewhat akin to pride. Harry, stunned, stopped walking toward the castle and looked at Hermione with surprise.

"_Studying_? Willingly and without you? Has he gone mad?"

"Probably, but if that is so, it's a good thing. He wants to do good on his NEWTS this year and has been studying with Stephan, who's a Ravenclaw, a couple times a week. Sometimes I join them, but their style of studying is . . . inconvenient. I think so, anyway."

"Ron . . . he . . . how much have I missed?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"You've been busy, Harry. No one blames you for not being around, what with you being Head Boy and quidditch captain, and everyone knows Professor Snape pushes you a lot harder than he does his advanced classes. You've probably finished seventh year material already."

"I finished seventh year material sometime last year," Harry said absentmindedly, not noticing the amazed but confused look that his friend gave him.

"So, you've gone further?" she asked. Harry nodded, his attention now fully back on Hermione. "How far?"

"I am scheduled to take the W.P.A.M. exam a few days after the NEWTS . . ."

"Wait. The Wizarding Potions Assessment for Masters exam?" she asked as if she didn't believe him. "Harry, it takes about six _years_ to be ready for the exam. There's no way–."

"Dad pushes me hard," he interrupted, still somewhat bitter at the underlying, recently found reason. "It's a long story, but I'll be ready."

"No wonder we never see you!" Hermione exclaimed. "And you do everything without a time turner?"

"Yes . . ." Harry answered, wondering if his friend had a point.

"Do you get any sleep?"

"Yes, I get sleep, Hermione," he snapped. "Why does that matter? It's not as if I can stop anything. Well, maybe quidditch, but I am _not_ quitting that."

"Calm down, Harry, I understand. It's just . . . we never see you anymore except at meals and a few classes. You spend most of your time with Professor Snape."

"Well, he is my father and I have responsibilities. Do you realize how many of the younger years come to me during the day? Elise gets just as many students, and anyway, most of the boys are not willing to speak to an older girl . . ."

"Harry!" Hermione said to catch her best friends attention. "I understand. I said we don't blame you. We _realize_ how important everything is to you. I just hope you don't become to exhausted. You don't have any free time!"

"It will be fine, Hermione," Harry answered, calmed down a bit now. "I'll only have lessons with Dad and a few students to work with during the holiday. I'll have plenty of time to rest." Checking the time again, Harry started walking toward the castle. Severus was going to be in his room in about ten minutes. It would take about five to make it back to his room. Severus was very rarely late.

"If you're sure . . ."

"I'm sure, Hermione. Don't worry. Dad won't let me overwork myself. He's been watching me. Look, I only have classes on Thursday, and I might be able to convince Dad to cancel the afternoon and evening ones. We should do something. Make sure Ron isn't studying or anything, as odd as that sounds."

"Of course, Harry," Hermione said, looking happy. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

"Yes," he answered sadly as they entered the Entrance Hall. Hermione said goodbye and left toward the tower while Harry headed toward his room, thinking.

He really has been missing a lot lately. He still had trouble comprehending that Ron was willing to study . . . but he supposed he was growing up. They all were. Walking slowly, he tried to remember if there was anything else different about his friends that he missed, but he came up blank. He remembered that Ginny had another boyfriend, but that was nothing unusual . . .

That was yet another subject that Harry would prefer to avoid: dating. With how busy he was, he hadn't given girls a thought. It only crossed his mind at times like this – when he wondered what he else he had to do in his life. But the thing was, he really wasn't interested. Except for his few female friends, girls seemed too . . . well, emotional. And demanding. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was happy without a girlfriend. Couples always seemed to be with each other, and he rather like his freedom, limited as it was with all his other commitments.

_Maybe I'm just not meant to get married_, he thought, mentally shrugging it off, but part of him couldn't let it go. Taking a step further, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes to clear his mind of all thought except his breathing. When he was sure his mind was clear, he opened his eyes and started walking again.

"Shoot!" he said, suddenly remember that Severus was meeting him in . . . ten minutes ago. Picking up his pace, Harry nearly ran to his room, nearly running into Elise as she left his room.

"In a hurry?" she teased.

"Yeah," he answered before giving the password to his room. "Later."

"Later," she laughed and walked off.

Severus was sitting at the table in the room, looking over Harry's translations of parseltongue, and he looked up, irritated, when Harry walked in.

"You're late."

"Sorry," he answered. "I . . . I have a lot on my mind right now. Did you know Ron is actually willing to study now?"

"No. He is not in my class and I do not pay attention to those that aren't."

"Well, he is. He studies with this one Ravenclaw . . . I don't really know him. I met Hermione outside, and she told me. I can't believe how little I've seen my friends this year!"

"You've been busy," Severus answered flatly.

"I _know_ I've been busy. But I realized that the conversation I had with Hermione today was the first personal and non-school related talk we've had in almost all term!" Severus didn't answer at first, and Harry almost accused the man of ignoring him as he was still looking at the papers on the table.

"And what do you wish to do about it?" Severus asked.

"Well . . . I was wondering if we could cancel lessons this Thursday. It'd be just this once, and I could easily make up the work this holiday. It's only one day . . ."

"I suppose that wouldn't hurt."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Thank you!" Harry answered, sitting down across from his father. As he did, Severus slid a paper across the table to him. Harry glanced at it, knowing what it was. "I really don't want to do this."

"It is necessary. We need to make sure."

"And what if nothing works?" Harry asked, nervousness lacing his voice. Severus indicated that he should read the paper. It was just a list of possible reason why the ritual wouldn't work, but the last was the most disturbing. Severus had underlined it, and Harry looked up.

"The last one . . ."

"I believe the last one would be the most likely scenario. The ritual, in very basic theory based on our known facts, should have worked. Although we _did_ die by the legal definition, our souls were not severed from our bodies completely, they just left, which means . . ." Severus trailed off.

"Which means that to rid ourselves of them completely, we need to die. Our _souls_ need to leave our body completely."

"It is a theory," Severus tried to reassure his son, but neither of them wanted to think much on it.

"So, are we going to discuss possible solutions?" Harry wondered.

"Not now. It is quite possible that the ritual worked. Saturday you will cease to take the potion and we will see if anything happens . . ."

"What if they know what we are doing?" Harry asked suddenly.

"What?"

"The Voices. What if they know, and they try to fool us? So we stop?"

Severus sighed as shook his head, and Harry knew his father didn't know. They were grabbing for invisible strings here; it was like trying to stop a levitation spell by reaching for the unseeable energy with your hand. It would be difficult but there was still some hope. You knew, after all, where the wand was pointing.

They both _hated_ the feeling of utter hopelessness that had wrenched onto the situation. The Voice were obviously controlling more than them, and Harry didn't know how safe it was for Hogwarts to stay open. If news of what was in the Forbidden Dungeon reached the Ministry, Severus said that it was possible the school would be deemed unsafe and would be forced to close.

Not too long ago, Dumbledore had concluded that Voldemort was in fact one of controlled. They were keeping the headmaster updated on everything that happened and all their theories and evidence pointed to the Dark Lord. When Harry learned that, he couldn't help but laugh. Imagine how angry Voldemort would be if he learned this – if he didn't already know. The laughed earned him a strong reprimand from both his father and headmaster.

"What are you going to do now, then?"

"We have your lessons from the upcoming Thursday to make up," Severus smirked, and Harry almost groaned. To the dismay of both the Snapes, Harry wasn't as appalled by the Dark Magic he was learning as he thought he would be. In fact, if it wasn't for the specific details of a hex or curse given to him by his father, he wouldn't have seen any difference between them and the defensive and offensive spells they learned in DADA.

When Severus saw that Harry wasn't tempted to use the dark magic outside of their lessons, though, he relaxed and concluded that it must be because the Voices wished him to learn them. That conclusion, though, almost unsettled the both of them even more. Neither wished to please the Voices.

SSSSSsssssssSSSSSSSssSSSSSSSSSsssSSsssssssSSSSSSSssss

During his Law class on Thursday, his last of the day now that he didn't have classes with his father later, he had trouble concentrating. He was meeting up with Ron and Hermione in half an hour. Not that he needed any extra excuse for not concentrating in the class; it was almost worse than History of Magic. At least the professor tried to make everything interesting by setting up scenarios that they had to work through. Still, Law was _boring_.

Finally, class ended and he wrote the assignment in his notebook before rushing out of the room. He dropped his bag off in his room before heading to Gryffindor tower.

In the common room, he sat himself down joyfully in front of one of the burning hearths. That was another thing he missed: studying and mingling in the common room during the evenings. It had been very long since he'd been back here, and the one time in the past month that he was here was to relay a message from McGonagall.

"Harry!" he heard as someone entered the common room. He arrived here before most students were back from classes, but now those who walked here normal-paced would be entered. He turned slightly to find the Creevy brothers walking toward him. "Haven't seen you in forever!" Colin said. "Been busy?"

"Very," Harry replied. He looked toward the entrance and he noticed the horde of students entering, exciting for the upcoming holiday.

"Harry Potter!" said Ginny, walking in with a sixth year Hufflepuff; probably her newest boyfriend. "I see you've finally decided to join us. Hermione said you'd be here today. I'd join you, but I have a potions exam tomorrow. Only Snape would give an exam the day before winter holiday!"

"Only he would work me during all said holiday," Harry rebutted, and Ginny and the Hufflepuff gave him a sympathetic look.

"See you later, Harry," Ginny answered, and Harry sat back to wait for Ron and Hermione, hoping to enjoy a few moments of rest, but without luck. Ginny's announcement of his name had reached everyone's ears, and he was suddenly surrounded by the familiar faces of his fellow Gryffindors.

"Harry, where've you been, mate?"

"Has Snape been keeping you in the dungeons?"

"You need to visit more! We never see you anymore!"

The crowd continued to ask questions, and he noticed several of the smaller students, ones that he didn't know very well, join the crowd. He sighed, and was about to talk when he saw McGonagall walk into the common room. Looking at her, pleading, and she understood immediately.

"I do not believe Mr. Potter wishes to be crowded in such a way," she said sternly. It took a moment for them to realize she said anything over the noise, but slowly stopped talking to look at her. Even more slowly, the crowd dissipated and Harry was able to sit up straight. It was unnerving sitting there with a crowd standing around the chair; it made him feel very vulnerable.

"Thank you," he said to his Head of House once everyone let him be. "That was annoying."

"You haven't been around, lately," she told him.

"As I've been told," Harry mumbled his answer, annoyed with everyone telling him that. He _knew_ he hadn't been around in a while.

"Don't fret, Mr. Potter. You have quite busy and it is understandable. Your house mates probably only reacted in such a manner because you have been so distant."

"I am _not_ distant," Harry rebutted. "They can come to see me anytime!"

"Most of the time, you aren't in your room, Harry," Ron said, and Harry looked away from his professor as his two best friends walked toward them. "What happened?"

"I was being crowded by our house mates," Harry said, giving a look to the other students in the common room.

"Oh. Well, that would be understandable," Hermione answered. McGonagall left to do whatever it was she came for, and Harry rolled his eyes at his friend.

"What should we do?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Well, we could take a walk in the gardens. The magical winter plants are up, and Professor Sprout told me that a few more have been planted this year . . ."

SSSSSssssssssssssSSSSSSSsssssssSSSSSSSSssssssSSSSSSSssssssssssSssssssssssssSSSsss

Extremely close to curfew, Harry hurried to his room, but nearly ran into the current Potions professor.

"Mr. Potter," she greeted. It was a generic greeting and Harry hurried by, his response said with his back to her.

"Good evening, Professor Joa," he said and was about to turn the corner to his corridor when she called out his name.

"Mr. Potter?" she asked, and Harry turned around to face her. "I hear you have been doing especially well in your classes. You are lucky the new laws don't affect you. You'll go far. I overheard the headmaster saying you are much further than the current seventh years in Potions . . ."

Harry looked at her oddly, wondering what she was getting at. The professor hadn't said one word to him since last year when he was taken out of her class.

"The laws _do_ affect me," Harry decided to reply, almost harshly. "One of my best friends is muggleborn."

"Ah, well, only indirectly, then. They won't interfere with you find a job. I've noticed you haven't talked to my niece in awhile. I heard that you went to the Yule Ball with her last year . . . it is horrible how there was no Ball this year."

"You mean Raven?" Harry asked. He hadn't realized that Joa was her aunt. "I see her in DA every week."

"Of course, of course. I forgot about those lessons. Doing well, I hope?" she asked. Harry nodded. "She's been having trouble with her Potions. She's smart, but if it has nothing to do with defense or quidditch, she has no interest in it. Perhaps you would be willing to tutor her?"

"Er . . ." Harry replied, thinking. "I don't know. I'll have to see. I've been rather busy so far this year."

"Understandable. I'll have her talk to you this holiday, and you two can decide on your schedule. Other classes would be nice, too. I just don't understand how she can do so well in defense, but struggle with charms. It doesn't make much sense."

"Er . . . yeah," he said slowly. "I need to my room. Curfew, you see. It wouldn't do to have the Head Boy out after curfew if he's not with a prefect . . . rules, you know."

"Ah, yes. Good evening, Mr. Potter," she replied and Harry turned the corner quickly.

_That was slightly odd and unexpected . . ._


	18. 2: Perfect

**Thanks to: ****Sherr, pinkpantherprankster, Callisto1791, LivingStoneLily, Delaine, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, Beth5572, bandgeekforlife, blue artemis, and cmtaylor531 ****for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: Wow. Okay, this partially fluffy chapter was aided by the song "Innocence" by Avril Lavigne. I wrote most of it listening to this song, and I think it fits it well. **

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine. **

**Chapter 18 - Perfect**

Harry was enjoying laying in bed, half conscious. He was in his room in his father's rooms, sleeping in for the fifth day in a row. Severus allowed it, although Harry still had a lot of work to do in the afternoons to make up for the time lost in bed.

He groaned when his bedroom door opened, allowing light to filter in.

"Up, Harry. It's ten," Severus said from the doorway, and Harry opened his eyes slightly.

"Fine," he answered. Once, just _once_, he would like to sleep in past ten, like he did once in awhile when he was younger, but his father wouldn't allow it. Slowly, he slid out of bed before grabbing clothes and taking a shower. Once he finished, he went into the sitting room to find Severus sitting on the sofa, reading. On the table in front of him was, as per usual for the past few days, a small breakfast waiting for Harry. Grinning, Harry grabbed the plat and sat down next to his father, trying to see what he was reading, much to Severus' annoyance.

"Just eat, Harry," Severus scolded. "When you're done, I want to you start on the application for your apprenticeship, and then we'll start reviewing for the WPAM exam."

"Already? Are we done with lessons for my masters?"

"No. Starting today, we will switch between new lessons and reviewed material," Severus replied.

"Oh."

Harry quickly finished eating, thinking about nothing in particular. When he was almost done, Severus stood up, retrieved something from a desk, and placed it on the table in front of his son, who was watching him with a blank face. Understanding what was wanted of him, Harry put down his plate and picked up the thick roll of parchment and unrolled it slightly.

_Auror Apprenticeship Application_

_Name:_

Curious, he unrolled it more to find more questions. Reading them, he realized they were typical of any school application. It asked for personal information, previous experience, previous jobs, classes taken, school went to . . . continuing to unroll the parchment, he found more and more questions.

"How long is this thing?" Harry asked, overwhelmed.

"942 questions, including your name. Not all of them will apply to you, though," Severus answered and shook his head at Harry's stunned look. "There _is_ a reason why I'm having you start five weeks before the deadline. I suggest you write answers on a separate piece of parchment before writing them on the application. You do not want to make a mistake half way though and have to rewrite everything; no magic can be used on it."

"None?" Harry asked, continuing to glance through the questions.

_Question 68: Are there any children living in your household?_

_Question 69: Have you sired any children? If yes, skip questions 70 through 86 and begin again at question 87._

"This is going to take a bit of time," Harry mumbled, agitated.

"Questions 476 through 743 are essay questions, so a lot longer than you are thinking."

"What? Why so much? I don't have to write _all_ of those, do I?"

"Most likely not, but you want to be as thorough as possible," Severus lectured. "They need to assess your abilities and they only want those who really want to be an auror to apply. If I remember correctly, if you are accepted, you will be assigned to one fully trained auror, so allowing those who might quit to apply is a waste."

"Oh," Harry said again, then sighed. "I suppose I should start."

"Yes," Severus nodded once. "Make it neat and in _black_ ink."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry mumbled, rolling up the application and heading to his room. After lighting a few more candles by hand in order to waste more time, he sat down at his desk and stared pitifully at the roll.

An hour later, Harry had just finished the first hundred questions (he only had to answer 70 of them), so after making sure the ink was dry, he rolled it up once again before checking to make sure his bedroom door was fully closed. Satisfied, he pulled the canvas and the muggle photo out from underneath his bed and looked them over.

When Hermione and Ron suggested that he should draw something for Severus for Christmas, he was rather reluctant. He was surprised that the two knew he could. Well, sort of. He never really thought himself very good at drawing; after all, he could never make the pictures look realistic enough. They always had this cartoon-ish look to him.

Deciding to give it a try, though, Harry sneaked a few pictures of him and Severus in the lab, working on the Voice potion.

Even after how long he'd been taking it, Harry had never actually made it, and it awed him. The final colors, when warm, never blended together. Around the edge of the cauldron was where most of the red stayed, and in the middle, there were swirls of purple, blue, and a bit of red. The smoke was a very comforting shade of red, and Harry was tempted to find a way to capture it in a bottle for decoration; the only impulse of the sort he's ever had. It didn't work, much to Severus' amusement.

Choosing the best picture, Harry started to sketch it in his notebook, using pencil. When he realized it was going to work, he owled Hermione some muggle money to get him something large to draw on and pastels, which she sent to Dumbledore. Dumbledore then snuck the supplies in to him while Severus was dealing with a few of the Slytherins who were causing a bit of trouble and he begun the gift.

Harry was surprised it was turning out as well as it was. The material he was drawing on was parchment (he realized that she must have gone to Diagon Alley to get it), and it was taking to the pastels really well (those he _knew_ were from Diagon Alley. They were charmed to only rub off on parchment). He was almost done . . . he just had to add shadows and more color to the background. Amazingly, it didn't take as long as he thought it was going to.

Taking out the white, black, and gray pastels, Harry added detail to the stone floor, making sure it was perfect, before putting it back underneath his bed and going back to the application. He'd work on it until lunch; then he was going to stop working on it for the day.

SSSSssssSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssssssssssssssssssss

Harry woke up much to early, even for Christmas day. With the excitement from the anticipation of the upcoming day not allowing him to fall back to sleep, he slowly rolled off the bed onto the rug covering the cold floor and pulled out the drawing once again. He had yet to wrap it, as he had just added the finishing touches the night before and he had to wait for the spray to dry. Dabbing the corner, then an area in the middle, to make sure it was dry, he set it in the frame he transfigured with painstakingly detail before he wrapped it in dark green and red, simply patterned paper.

That finished, and still not ready to go back to sleep, Harry picked it up carefully and made his way toward his bedroom door so he could put it next to the tree he had put in near the fireplace. He was surprised to find his father sitting in front of said fireplace, the sofa moved to sit in front of it. He was about to put the picture back in his room when Severus spoke up.

"You're up early," he said, and Harry shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep," he replied, just spotting the glass in his father's hand and the bottle on the table next to him. "Are you drinking?" Severus, irritated at being questioned about his actions, gave him a small glare before moving to allow Harry to sit next to him.

"Christmas tradition," was his only answer.

"What? Getting drunk?"

"No," Severus replied, handing the bottle to Harry. "Every Christmas Eve, Albus gives me a small bottle of some alcohol import, and I drink it. Simple as that."

"Right," Harry said slowly. It was odd; he never saw Severus drink before.

"What's that?" Severus asked, indicating the large, wrapped gift now leaning on the sofa. Harry handed the bottle back to his father, shrugging again.

"Something for you," he replied. After a minute of being looked at blankly by Severus, his father stood up, went to his bedroom and came out a moment later, a wrapped gift in hand. Sitting down, he handed the box to his son.

"Not as fancy as last Christmas, I'm afraid. This has no family history to it, but I thought you would like it," he explained, and Harry looked at him, slightly confused. "Well, open it." Harry slowly did so. The gift was heavy, and he had an odd feeling that it was expensive.

Pulling the box out of the paper, he realized it was exactly that: a box. A very beautiful, artistically designed, _expensive _looking box.

"The frame is made of lead, and the design is made out of stones," Severus explained as Harry looked it over. It was a nice size, large enough to hold several books. The color scheme was dark; most of the box was covered with pieces of smooth, black stone, probably obsidian. The top was covered in a small mural of a darkly beautiful forest, with stone vines traveling around the box. Opening it, he realized the entire inside was covered in the same dark stone as the outside, a large key on the bottom. Closing the box, Harry looked at Severus with amazement. This box must have cost a fortune with the stones that were used, and the present for his father now seemed horrible.

"Thank you," he said, trying to express how much he loved it with the tone of his voice, unable to find the words that would work, and Severus nodded. "My . . . my present isn't as nice," he continued, putting the small chest on his lap and handing over the drawing. Just as carefully as Harry was, Severus unwrapped it. Harry was looking down, admiring the box some more, and he missed his father's expression.

"Harry," he heard his father whisper. "Did . . . did you draw this?" Harry looked up and nodded, not understanding his father's reaction. "I didn't know you could draw."

Harry shrugged, not knowing what to say.

"I never really drew much. Sometimes, when I was at the Dursleys and locked in my room, I would. I didn't know what else to get you, and my friends suggested . . . anyway, it's not that good."

"Not that good, Harry?" his father asked, bewildered. "_Harry_, this is . . . _perfect_. The detail, the potion . . . the lab. And you've never had training?"

"Training? Why?"

"Well, I am no good at any type of drawing, and as far as I know, neither was your mother. This is so realistic I almost mistook it for a muggle photograph before I actually looked at it."

"It's not _that_ good," Harry argued. "You're just drunk . . you don't know what you're talking about."

"I am _not_ drunk. That bottle isn't even finished yet," Severus rebutted. Appearing to make a decision, Severus stood up and levitated the drawing and attached it to the blank wall above the large hearth. "That's straight?" he asked, sitting back down, looking unbalanced. Harry almost reached over to take the bottle of alcohol, but decided against it. After all, he'd probably argue less later at the Weasley's. Turning to face his son, Severus smiled.

"Thank you, Harry. I suppose we needed some proof in these rooms that we're related."

Giving a small laugh, Harry leaned on Severus, and his father put an arm around him, giving him a squeeze.

"It's been a year now, you know," Harry commented, letting his head rest on his father's shoulder. He realized he was probably too old for that, but it always felt good, having his father hold him. He had to make up for what he missed as a child, anyway. "I can't believe we've ever hated each other. I can't believe we almost didn't even acknowledge that we're related!" Severus didn't answer at first, just giving Harry another odd hug before running his fingers through the hair that was so similar to his own.

"I know," he finally said quietly. "I know."

"Dad?" Harry asked.

"Yes?"

"Can we go home for a bit?"

"Now?" Severus asked.

"No, later. In a few days. Just for a few days. I . . . feel better there, that's all."

"Because of the Voices?" Severus wondered.

"Maybe," Harry answered after a bit of silence. "It's just . . . home, you know?"

"You've only lived there a couple of months, Harry," he said with a small laugh.

"I _know_. But . . . just you and me. Here, it doesn't feel right, not quite."

"For a few days," Severus agreed.

A few hours later, Severus was woken by several loud knocks on the door. Loosening himself from his son's grip, he stood up, made sure he was somewhat presentable, if still in his nightshirt, and opened the door.

"Severus," Albus greeted. "Did I wake you?"

"Yes," Severus admitted, looking at the time. Breakfast was two hours ago. "Harry and I fell asleep. Care to come in?"

"Of course," the headmaster said walking into the room. Almost immediately, he noticed the addition above the fireplace. "When did you get that?" Sending a smile to his sleeping son, he answered quietly.

"Harry drew it. It was his present to me."

"Ah. So _that_ was what it was for," Albus answered, but continued at Severus' questioning look. "Ms. Granger sent me the materials, with a note to give it to Harry secretly. I did not know what it was to be used for."

Now fully awake and completely sober, Severus examined the perfectly blended picture. He and Harry were standing next to the cauldron with the Voice potion just being completed. Harry had a temporary obsession with the potion's smoke and was holding a large vial upside down in an attempt to capture the red color. Severus himself had a hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing gently, and had a slightly amused look on his face. Harry had a look of pure concentration on his face.

The detail of the potion was painstakingly accurate, as was the entire room. The way he colored it, he, Harry and the potion was in full color, but the room around them was faded slightly, bringing focus to the scene. Still, the room was anything but dull. Severus never realized how much of his lab Harry had actually claimed as his own until now; one of the shelves were covered with books that Harry had been using, mostly for his final project and other small research projects he had over the past year and next to it was a desk, Harry's school bag hanging from a hook.

Looking back at his sleeping boy, he smiled again, amazed. To think that less than two years ago, he disliked the child almost to the point of hate. He hated him for being the son of James Potter and Lily, hated him for getting away with being careless and reckless, for breaking rules without regards to others . . . but that wasn't Harry, was it? That wasn't his son.

"A late Christmas lunch is being served at the Weasley's at three. You are coming, I'm hope?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," Severus replied, not taking his eyes off his child. Severus was so deep in his thoughts, he didn't notice the headmaster leave a wrapped gift on the table, and he didn't notice the old man leave, a smile on his face.

SSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssss

Lunch was, for the lack of a better word, beautiful. An area outside had been cleared of snow and a bubble of warm air was charmed around the long table. The trees were graciously decorated, the icy colors somehow warming the area up by themselves. It had been snowing all day, so the decorations had a somewhat lived-in feel to them, partially covered in snow. Charmed candles were set up around the heat bubble for when it began to grow dark.

At first, Harry didn't think lunch would last until nightfall, but everyone took their time eating, talking about every cheerful, political, and family topics imaginable. Even though Harry didn't know some of the people there, some family of Order members, by the end of the night, he found himself not wanting to leave and wanting to talk more with these new, interesting people.

Finally, the night ended, and Harry said good bye to everyone, promising to send Hedwig with a few letters to his new friends. Then, he and Severus apparated outside Hogwart's gates and waited to be let in by Hagrid. After an extremely amicable, holiday-spirited conversation, father and son made their way slowly to the castle, intent on finding something warm to drink in front of the fire.

"Did you have a good time, Harry?" Severus asked, stripping himself of his wet cloak, and Harry nodded.

"It was perfect. The best Christmas ever," Harry answered, a grin larger than usual on his face.

"Yes. Perfect," Severus replied with a smile.


	19. 2: Call Backs

**Thanks to: ****Delaine, bandgeekforlife, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, DiamondOfTheMoon, KimSpiritTalks, blue artemis, LivingStoneLily, honore, Beth5572, BatteredChild, and acacia59601****for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: It's probably the last time they're going back . . . Dumbledore's gift will be gotten to soon. I didn't check for errors yet . . . I don't know how much I actually like this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 19 - Called Backs**

"Uh oh," Harry said, looking nervously at the cauldron. The contents sputtered a bit before finally settling, and he let out a long, slow breath. Despite his father's insistence that he work on other subjects, too, Harry had sudden inspiration for his final project. At first, the idea seemed too easy to be of any value but he did some research and found that no tests have been done, so he had spent the past few days before the other students came back working on the potion.

Every single try had exploded so far, fortunately none to Severus' knowledge, and he was hoping to Merlin that this one wouldn't. He was _sure_ he organized all the ingredients correctly this time.

Convinced that the potion was stable, Harry doused the fire before leaving the classroom he had begun to think of as his own lab. Severus rarely came there anymore and only when he needed to practice difficult spell that wasn't appropriate for Severus' rooms or office. He wandered a bit before stopping in front of the hidden entrance to the Forbidden Dungeon, and he looked around nervously before stepping through.

Harry knew he shouldn't go down, but he . . . didn't know why he was. Not until he was walking along the corridor too dark for the light did he begin to realize that it didn't work. The ritual didn't work. His stomach attempted to throw something up before he fell to his knees to stop his descent further into the dungeons. He was still connected to them, and they probably knew how he and Severus attempted to separate themselves from them . . .

He knew he wasn't getting out of there without meeting the voices again and that he couldn't stay where he was forever, so he rose again and made his way along the corridor. The darkness didn't last as long this time, which he was glad about, and it wasn't long before he entered a different, fully lighted room. There was a chair placed in the center of the room. Taking a hint, he sat down.

"_**Hello**_," a Voice greeted. "_**Comfortable?**_"

"Yes," Harry answered. "Why am I here?" he ventured to ask.

"_**Yes, of course. Not too pleased to be down here again, I assume. Just . . . checking up on progress, you could call it. Your father has been teaching you? Everything he knows?**_"

"Yes," he answered again, surprised. They didn't know everything that was going on, obviously. So . . . how did they control them?

"_**That is good. And what of your potions?**_"

"I'll receive my Masters soon. After I am out of Hogwarts . . ." he replied, thinking that it couldn't hurt. Maybe he could find out something useful.

"_**And you test potions on yourself at times?**_"

"Well, the ones I know are safe . . ." _Now_ he was confused. "Why?"

"_**Just . . . wondering. It's been rather quiet around here. Remember, if you do as I say, you will be rewarded greatly.**_"

"Of course. Do you have a job for me?" Curiosity, nothing more. He didn't _want_ to do a job for the Voice, that was for sure . . . or did he?

"_**Become an auror. It will be necessary for later. Certain . . . issues need to be dealt with. You will be reporting to me, and **__**only**__** me from now on. Consider it an honor. Now leave.**_"

Harry didn't waste time leaving and he was surprised that the lights never faded out. Looking back he saw the entrance to the room, along with other corridors that branched off to other, similar looking rooms. _Nothing special_, he realized. It looked like every other part of the castle.

When he left the Dungeon, feeling a tingling feeling he hadn't felt going down and the wards once again being put up, a sense of urgency overcame Harry. He needed to find Severus. Last time he heard, Severus was going to be in his lab all day, so he ran down there and knocked before letting himself in.

"Dad?" he asked, slightly calmer. Severus looked up, still stirring the potion.

"One moment, Harry," he answered, and Harry nodded as he walked over to the cauldron.

"Still making the infirmary potions?" Harry asked. "I thought that Joa was going to take over."

"She chose not to. Apparently, she enjoys not having the responsibility."

"Huh," he replied. "The ritual didn't work. I was called to the Dungeon, and apparently all this one Voice wants is for me to become an auror."

"This Voice?" Severus asked, dread in his own voice.

"There was just one this time. Said I was assigned to him and that I should be grateful. I also don't think they know what is going on without the original potion. I haven't heard any of them outside the Dungeon, so . . ."

Severus nodded. "Perhaps the ritual worked _some_. Have you gotten anywhere with _your_ potion?"

"Yeah. It didn't explode this time," Harry answered, getting a pained look from his father.

"_This_ time?"

"Well, it's not like I was hurt the other times. But it's stable now. I'll try the necessary grounding and connecting spells before . . . wait, if–."

Harry didn't need to finish his thought as his father was already out of his lab and heading toward the classroom; Severus appeared to be on the same line of thought. Eager to see if he concluded correctly, Harry imitated Severus' quick pace and made it to the room in a minute. Severus was staring at the potion. At his father's questioning glance, he explained what was in it and how it was supposed to work – once, of course, the spells were used.

"Gradni oil is poisonous. This can't be used," Severus answered deflated, but Harry shook his head roughly.

"Yes it can! When it reacts with the seeds, it _isn't _poisonous. I tested it on the mice. It appeared to make them hallucinate for a bit, but then they went back to normal."

"Where are the mice?" Severus asked, and Harry summoned a small cage with four mice, one of them diligently running on a metal wheel. Harry shrugged and watched his father perform a few tests and nod.

"They are perfectly healthy. What made you think of using a poison in the potion in the first place?" It was almost a scold, and Harry looked away.

"Well, it was an accident, actually," Harry said, watching the running mouse. "I was moving the oil to reach a few empty vials when I dropped it. I was going to clean it up when I saw it was reacting well with the seeds and I did a few tests . . . and the properties were mixed perfectly. With the seeds being used for stableness and the oil being used for attachment . . ."

Severus shook his head.

"Using Gradni oil in a potion that is to be consumed . . . that's–."

"Only illegal if it's not neutralized before added. As the law on poisons states. I take law, remember?"

"Right," Severus answered dryly. "But that doesn't mean this would work. If this is taken before the ritual, and it connects us strongly enough, _grounds_ us strongly enough to each other, perhaps it will. _If_ it is a strong enough bind us to each other, and thus to the earth as we did in the ritual, it might be possible to keep us close enough to our bodies after being completely separated . . ."

"That's mad," Harry stated. "I . . ." Harry couldn't answer. He probably should have realized that his father's thoughts were traveling down _that_ path, as he has stated a few times before that the only way they might become free of the Voices is to die, but . . . what if it _didn't _work?

"Tests will need to be done, of course. Harry," Severus said with a warning and he looked up. "This . . . would be considered a form of Necromancy. You understand what that means, I hope?"

"That it will be illegal," he answered flatly. "And dangerous. And _impossible_. Bringing a soul back into a dead body is not permanent. _And_ there's no free will involved. Voldemort . . ."

"This might be possible, Harry. What were you thinking?"

"I don't know. Maybe the same thing, but . . . it just hit me to be wrong . . . I mean, if we get this right, people _would_ have a way to keep from dying."

"Well, then, it is to be kept a secret. A way to fight the Voices only."

"Right."

"Is it ready to do the spells?" Severus asked. Harry looked into the cauldron.

"Yes." Without being asked to do so, Harry started the long string of spells. There were ten of them in all, and they all had to be woven together and _into_ the potion. Not just to the potion. It was seventh year material, but it was still extremely difficult.

Finally finished, Harry stepped back. No explosion, no boiling over, no unexpected results . . . maybe it did work. Severus didn't waste time to admire Harry's hard work, much to the boy's displeasure, but instead went to a storage cupboard and opened it. He searched through it before moving on to the next and finally turning to face him irritated son, just as exasperated.

"Where are your empty vials?" he asked, impatient. Harry pointed to the drawers between the cupboards. "You need to work on your organizational skills. How can you work in here?" Severus asked, and Harry shrugged as his father handed him a bag of 1 dram vials; vials smaller than his pinky.

"Why not just a few big vials?" Harry asked as he took out a large, clean dropper out of the bag. _Severus sure collected everything in a hurry_, he thought.

"Ten drops in each, should do," Severus replied instead. "We don't want to kill the mice with an overdose."

"Right," Harry answered. "We don't have enough vials for the entire batch, then."

"Not all of it is going in the small vials. Must you argue?"

"Well, it _is_ my project. I don't want to have to start over with something else!" Harry said, sucking up some of the potion into his dropper and carefully counting ten drops before tightly fitting the lid on. Even with the large droppers, the thick liquid only filled the small vial halfway.

"The oil-and-seed mixture will be more than enough for the project. Just develop a simple potion using it. You can present _that_ instead. It's still a lot better than anything the other potion students will have and I don't want this potion, if it works, out in the public."

"Right," Harry answered _again_, earning a glare from his father. They worked in silence, Harry getting halfway through his bag of vials, before he spoke again. "What is happening with Malfoy?"

"Why?"

"Well, I _did_ find those potions. Did you find out what they are going to be used for? Is Malfoy going to get expelled?"

"No to both," Severus answered. "The headmaster has been trying to convince – indirectly, of course – that being with Voldemort is not a good choice. He has hopes."

"It's not going to work . . . is it?"

"No. It is hard to fight the type of upbringing he grew up with. There is very little chance he will change his views of the Dark Lord."

They worked in silence again.

"What about the potion? The room?"

"The room will be 'stumbled upon' in a few days time, before the students arrive. We will make sure there is no evidence that points to Malfoy and then bring the aurors in. Malfoy will see it as luck. Voldemort will see it as failure."

"That's not right, though! We can't just let him get away with brewing those potions!"

"The headmaster feels that if he is punished enough, he may turn to the Light side," was Severus' only reply.

"Yeah, right," Harry spat, but didn't say anything more on the matter. Finally all of the potion was in separate vials and Harry cleaned the cauldron while Severus went to the mice and picked two.

"You can't just give it to them," Harry said as Severus was about to feed it to them. "If it were _that_ easy, everyone would drink it and be connected to everyone else!" Severus paused. "You need to cast a temporary binding charm on both of them, probably. Or, at least that what other tests have done with the potions that _partially_ worked.

"Is it a potion that needs to be digested first?" Severus asked.

"It will probably work better over time," Harry responded with a shrug. "The seeds, you know . . ." Severus nodded.

SSSSssssssssSSSSSSSSsssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSssssssss

"Get the headmaster," Severus said after a few hours. They missed dinner and Harry had taken to studying in _his_ classroom while his father ran test that were _supposed_ to be for _his_ final project. "And Camstar. Hurry!"

Harry left without questioning why, although since he wanted Camstar he guess it was because it worked. In the headmaster's office, Albus summoned the Runes professor, and they went down to the classroom together.

Now Harry realized why Severus didn't like people in his own lab. He wasn't entirely comfortable with Camstar because he had never taken runes, and having Dumbledore looking over his space was annoying for no other reason than because it _was_.

"The ritual. We need to do it again, but . . . you need to wait longer before reviving us," Severus said, handing Harry a goblet of the thick gray liquid. He drank it after Severus did, and he grimaced. He wasn't expecting to actually drink it any time soon. It tasted horrible.

"That will kill you!" Camstar exclaimed, and Severus shook his head.

"No. It will work. I was able to revive the mice 10 minutes after showing no signs of life. You _should_ be able to revive us after 35 minutes, according to my calculations, but it shouldn't take that long. Fifteen minutes should do."

"What happened here?" Dumbldore asked.

"He stole my final project," Harry answered bitterly and Severus gave him an exasperated look.

"Is that _all _you can think about?" he asked harshly.

"Well, _you'd_ be upset too if someone came a took a project you were working on away." Severus just shook his head.

"Well?" he asked. "The potion we took is a potion Harry developed. It works. It tested it."

"What you are suggesting, Severus, is _illegal_. You'll come back as . . . Inferi!"

"It would be necessary. The Voices still have a hold on us, and we will _not_ be coming back as Inferi! I _told_ you, tests have been done. The mice would be dead now if it didn't work out perfectly." Severus was acting like he was going to yell. He was _extremely_ impatient.

"I do believe that sooner would be better than later," Dumbledore agreed, mostly talking to Camstar. "And Severus would not be so eager to have this done if he wasn't entirely positive it was going to work."

"Alright," she said with a sigh after a bit. "I understand that it's necessary. I could have everything ready in two hours."

"That will work. Thank you," Severus said calmly. Two hours and another dose later, Harry was standing next to his father in the center of the room, nervous.

"Dad?" he asked.

"It will work, Harry," he confirmed, handing the poison used for the ritual last time. The headmaster and Camstar started . . .

SSSSSSsssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSssssssssssssssssSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssssssssssSSSSS

Harry woke in a comfortable, familiar bed, yet he couldn't place why it was familiar. Opening his eyes to stare at a blank ceiling above him, he remembered. It was his room, of course, but _not_ his room. He groaned.

He fell out of bed – on purpose, of course – and ran to the bathroom before finding his father. Making sure he was himself in the mirror, he looked close. He looked older. Maybe . . . well, older than seventeen. Maybe twenty. So why was he still here? And why was he older? Should he be in school or on the way?

It was dark out, so he assumed it was okay to walk into his father's room without knocking.

"Dad?" he asked, walking in, getting a groan from the direction of the bed. It was a female voice, though.

"Braidon, I realize you're nervous, but please don't bother me now. You're father's still downstairs."

"Oh. Sorry," he said, then closed the door. His mother again. Perhaps she's stay around longer, this time. A few steps from the door, he remembered and ran to find his father in the kitchen.

"I'm getting married tomorrow!" he said, skidding in his socks.

"I realize that," Severus answered, and handed Harry a book that was labeled "Engagement Photos". He opened it. "You're marrying Krissa."

"Oh," he said, not as excited. "How long do you think we are going to be here this time?"

"Most likely longer than last time, but . . . the two time lines do not appear to be running along side each other."

"Obviously. I don't want to get married. Especially to _her_."

"You don't know here. And it's not really you," Severus reassured him.

"So? I'm–."

"Nervous?" Krissa asked, walking into the room and up to Harry. Wrapping her arms around her soon-to-be husband, she kissed him. It was awkward at first, Harry not having kissed much at all, but after a few seconds, it felt right and he kissed her back. Parting, Krissa gave him a smile as she left the room.

"_That's_ why I'm marrying her," Harry answered, sitting down. He looked up at his father, giving him a disapproving look. "What? It's not like it's really _me_," he answered in a whisper. Severus shook his head.

"Just go to bed. You have a long day ahead of you."

Harry consented went upstairs. On the way, he passed the room which was obviously Krissa's. The door was open, and he was laying on her bed, above the blankets.

"Hi, Braidon," she greeted. "Not having second thoughts, are you?"

"Never," Harry answered, entering the room. Honestly, he had no idea what he was doing, but he was going with instinct. He felt as if he had done this many times. He sat on the bed next to her and she sighed.

"I hope it doesn't rain tomorrow."

"Me, neither. I should probably be getting to bed. I don't want to be tired tomorrow."

"Yeah, I suppose. You know, if your parents weren't here, you'd just sleep here. Or I'd sleep in your room. I don't know why you're so hesitant around them."

Harry paused after standing and looked at Krissa. They slept together?

"Right, well . . . I don't really know how they would react," he stated.

"As you've said," she replied and he gave her a quick goodnight kiss before heading back to his room.


	20. 2: Switches

**Thanks to: ddamato, angelinvestigationsfan, Crazy-Physco, honore, FOXANBU, LivingStoneLily, JWOHPfan, KimSpiritTalks, Alexis8907, blue artemis, Delaine, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, Beth5572, and BatteredChild for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: I had originally thought that IM I was going to be a lot longer than II. It doesn't seem that way now. They'll be about the same length, word-wise, for now.**

**Anyway, a comment is made here about Remus being in a very early chapter, at Grimmauld Place in It's Mutual 1. Currently, he _isn't_, but I'm rewriting the chapter, and he's in the rewrite. I'm about half way through the second chapter, and he will be in there. So, just pretend at the moment, alright? **

**Hope the chapter's okay . . . Took me awhile to write it. Writer's block. Good news is, though, it's a bit longer than the chapters I've been writing lately – 1000 words more than last chapter. Yay!**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 20 - Switches **

Harry (or, in this case, Braidon) was kept awake by a strange feeling. A mixture of excitement, nervousness and need, and his body was reacting to it in a way that, although not unfamiliar, wasn't too common for him. He never had much interest in girls or women, but now it seemed as though she was all he could think about. Although most of him didn't know exactly what to do, an unknown part of him was telling him to get into bed with her . . . _now_.

Sighing, he covered his face with his pillow and willed his body to behave so he could get some sleep. _I don't know her_, he kept telling himself, but all his efforts were pointless.

By morning, he had worked himself into a high state of anxiety. He had no idea what he was doing, he didn't know Krissa enough to marry her – and he wanted to get back home. _How did we get back last time? We were in front of the mirror . . . _

Sitting up, Harry tumbled out of bed, getting caught up in the blankets. Finally, he was standing up and he ran from the room, glad he didn't see Krissa as he entered his father's room. And his mother's. Not expecting Lily to be in bed with Severus, he paused in the doorway, the situation awkward.

"What is it, Braidon?" Lily asked, irritated at being woken so early. Checking the time next the to bed, Harry saw that it was not even five in the morning.

"I need to speak with Dad," Harry answered.

"Is it really that important?" Severus mumbled.

"Yes."

In a manner that spoke grumbles, Severus stood and followed Harry into his room.

"We need to get out of here. I _can't_ marry her," Harry stated once the door was closed and wards were up. "I think something . . . I just can't! I can't explain it. Remember last time we were here? We left once we looked into the mirror together . . ."

Severus didn't answer at first, looking as if he was concentrating.

"That might work, if it isn't a spelled mirror," Severus answered, glancing at the mirror in the room, finding it odd that Harry _did_ have one there. "It might have been a coincidence last time, though."

"We still should try!"

"Yes, we should," Severus answered as if Harry was dim and pull him over to the mirror. Obviously, Severus was more anxious to leave than his son. "I have had enough of Lily and her rudeness . . . For some odd reason, she feels obligated to attend your wedding, despite her not caring."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that – in fact, he wished Severus didn't mention her – so he chose not to, opting instead to look into the mirror at Severus. Getting the hint, Severus looked at Harry and their eyes locked . . .

Harry opened his eyes feeling . . . _heavy_. The ground beneath him was cold, but his robes did quite a bit to cushion him from it. Becoming more aware, he realized that the heavy feeling was actually something on his chest. Taking his eyes from the high ceiling, he looked down, seeing . . . himself.

"Ah!" Harry shouted, standing up and causing his should-be body to fall roughly to the ground.

"Arr," he heard himself growl and watched as his body stood up to look at the cause of the disturbance – looking just as shocked as he felt once he saw.

"Oho! It worked!" Camstar exclaimed, clapping her hands together once. "I was so . . ."

"Harry?" Harry's body asked tentatively and the Runes professor trailed off.

"Dad?" Harry questioned back, listening to the voice that came from his mouth. _Definitely_ his father's.

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore murmured quietly. "This is quite unexpected."

Harry and Severus stared at each other, trying to comprehend that they were in each other's bodies and ignoring the other two in the room. It seemed surreal . . . and completely wrong. Tentatively, Harry shifted his weight between his feet. Even that felt different.

"Perhaps a walk to my office would do?"

"I will clean up here," Camstar stated. "And then I have grading to do." She looked to Dumbledore for clearance and perhaps reassurance. The headmaster nodded and she set to clearing up the room. At his beckoning, Severus and Harry followed Dumbledore awkwardly.

"You wear horrible shoes," Harry said quietly to his father, stumbling several times over the stone floor.

"They are extremely comfortable," Severus snapped back. "There is nothing wrong with them. It is _you_ choose to wear casual shoes."

"_My_ shoes are comfortable," Harry snipped. Realizing they shouldn't be arguing about issues like that in public, Severus waved a hand that Harry immediately recognized to say, 'shut it, now'. It was odd, seeing his own body do the motion.

In the headmaster's office, Severus and Harry sat down in the main sitting area, Dumbledore reassuring them that no one would enter without him knowing. He felt it was necessary for a more comfortable environment than his desk for this talk. Severus started.

"Apparently, the binding potion had . . . side affects," he said flatly, and Harry glared at him.

"I couldn't know–."

"I was not saying it was because of you," his father snapped. "Apparently, since we are bound to each other, our souls weren't entirely sure which body to reclaim. It is not something that could be tested on with mice."

"Is there a way to switch you two back without redoing the ritual? A soul-switching spell, perhaps?"

"There is no soul-switching spell that is permanent," Severus answered. "Not to my knowledge. And the ritual wouldn't be a sure way to fix the problem. It is possible we would have to try it again, and again . . . and that leaves much room for error. I am not willing to take that chance unless there is no other solution."

"I see," Dumbledore nodded. "On a slightly different note: no one must learn of this. I will tell Professor Camstar that the problem was solved. What we did during the ritual was illegal and could cause severe consequences if the situation fell into the hands of the Ministry. Understand?" Both Severus and Harry nodded, Harry a bit more reluctantly.

"What are you saying?" Harry asked.

"That, until we learn how to fix our most recent problem, you must be each other. Harry knows enough to teach your classes, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, Harry's body, and Harry noticed a small streak of amusement in his eyes.

"Yes," Severus grumbled.

"And Severus should have no problem attending your classes and attending to your Head Boy duties, hmm?" Dumbledore asked Severus' body.

"Right," Harry mumbled.

"But, perhaps, you two should find time to discuss what needs to be done, should you still be mixed around when the students arrive."

_Mixed around_, Harry thought, unamused. _That's a phrase for this_. The three sat in silence for a bit, having nothing to say that they all didn't already know, before Dumbledore spoke up again.

"Perhaps, if that is all we have to talk about, you two could start researching? I have a few papers to fill out, and I must talk with Minerva about something for the upcoming term, but then I promise you that I will be looking into this. If I remember, correctly, I have a book in my personal library that might be of some use . . . well, good day then, my boys."

"Of course," Severus answered, standing and Harry followed suit.

"This is bound to cause confusion among us," Dumbledore stated shaking his head, and Harry gave a small, nervous laugh.

Ten minutes later, the two Snapes were in Severus' quarters, Severus taking down all his books from the shelves none too nicely and Harry pacing. Severus disappeared into his office after a bit, once most of the books from the shelves were on the floor in organized but messy piles, and Harry watched the door, still standing, until his father reentered the sitting room five minutes later, levitating a pile of six thick tomes.

Letting go of the charm, the six books landed on the coffee table and Severus strode over to his previous piles. Levitating two of the piles together, he placed them on the table next to the others before placing all the unneeded book back on the shelves.

All this was done in silence, and Harry felt himself slowly going mad from watching himself – literally – throwing things around with his father's gracefulness. Of course, he didn't start out graceful, but after ten minutes, Severus seemed to have gotten used to his body and was gracefully stalking around. It was _odd_.

"Dad?" Harry asked, hesitantly and Severus turned on his heals to look at his son. Harry pointed to the three piles of books. "Should I start looking through those?"

"If we don't have this fixed in the next few days, we are going to have to be each other," Severus snapped. "Start acting like me. Call me Harry or Mr. Potter, depending on our company, and I . . ." Severus faltered. " . . . And I will start calling you dad or Professor."

"Right," Harry answered, trying to process that. "Or we could just avoid calling each other anything at all," he suggested.

"You know very well that it would not work."

"I'm sorry," Harry said after a moment's pause, and Severus looked at his oddly.

"For what?" Severus asked quietly.

"For . . . the potion. I thought it would work."

"And it did, Harry," his father replied softly. "It worked very well. And it might very well have torn our connection from the Voices entirely. This is just . . ." Severus paused to think, "an unforeseen consequence we need to work out. And yes, you may start looking through those books.

Harry gave a shrug before sitting on the couch and picking up the closest book while Severus shook his head.

IIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

Harry sat at Severus' desk, waiting and extremely nervous. It was the first class of the new term, and while he was supposed to be in Transfiguration, he was instead preparing to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Not that he needed anymore preparing; the material for the 5th years was especially easy. It was the entire Pretend-To-Be-Severus thing that was so nerve-wrecking. Harry was eternally grateful that he took private lessons with his father. It would have been extremely hard to call his father, "Mr. Potter".

Of course, he had been. Just as Severus had been calling him 'dad'. Camstar had stopped by Severus' offices a day after the incident, making sure they were okay and they fooled her – someone who was _looking_ for something wrong, so really, if they could do that, they could easily fool those who aren't expecting anything odd.

A few minutes to nine, the first student entered and the second, shortly after. They both sat in seats next to each other, but did not talk over a whisper. They were Ravenclaws, and Harry tried hard to remember who they were.

Harry was glad it was to be an easy class period. It was a practical day, so it would be similar to the DA . . .

Harry groaned, remembering the DA meeting that was planned for that Wednesday. Severus would have to run it as Harry – since Severus rarely came to meetings now, and when he did, he simply supervised – and it was quite possible that some of the students would notice a change in him. Harry had to admit that Severus was a good actor, though.

The hour went easily. The fifth years noticed no change in Harry/Severus and behaved as they normally would. As did the first years, lunch, and the third years after that. The only mistake he made was before dinner where, instead of heading to Severus' rooms, he headed toward his . . . but that was easily fixed. When he arrived there, there were a few first years wanting to talk to him – as Harry of course – and he almost let them in when he remembered he was in Severus' body. Harry knocked on the door and when Severus/Harry answered, he merely commented:

"I was hoping we could discuss something, but as you have visitors, I wish to see you in my office at seven tonight." With a nod from Severus/Harry, he left to the professor's quarters.

IIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiii

Harry was sitting in his father's office looking grimly at the assignments that the third years deemed worthy enough to hand in when Severus knocked and entered without pause. Honestly, no _wonder_ his father thought he was incompetent if he handed in essays like _that_. Still, they agreed – or rather, Severus ordered – that Harry try to correct the assignments and Severus would look over them for any extra errors. "It will help you," Severus had said.

"I am never becoming a teacher," Harry said once his father closed the door.

"Why not, Dad? Have a bad day?" Severus asked, and Harry glared at him.

"Not _bad_. Not really. Not until _these_," he answered, pushing away the scrolls of gibberish.

"You find yourself use to the abuse of the English language after a bit," he answered, sitting down. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Nothing. I accidently went to my rooms instead of yours," Harry explained.

"Ah," Severus/Harry answered as he sat down in Harry's usual spot. "Continue," he said, and Harry shook his head.

They sat they way in absolute silence except for the sound of parchment and quill until Harry looked up and noticed his father looking at the Phantom Mark strangely.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"You must be stronger in Occlumency than I am," Severus answered, and it took Harry a second to catch on.

"What do you mean?"

"Last night. A Vision. I was . . . the Dark Lord."

"You were in his head," Harry commented, sitting up straight and putting down the quill.

"Yes. I never entirely understood what you meant by that until now. The feeling . . . but I was able to dig a bit deeper. Still, I want to try something with you . . ."

"What?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"I just mentioned I believed you were stronger in Occlumency than I am," Severus drawled, a weird sound coming from Harry's mouth. "You should be able to guess, if nothing else, what I am suggesting."

"You want to try breaking into my mind? We haven't done that all term . . ."

"Yes. But you must have been fighting off the Dark Lord's attempts to raid your mind while preventing yourself from entering his . . . as much as I tried last night, I could do nothing but attempt to discreetly look for memories once I realized what was happening."

"You what?" Harry asked, and Severus gave him an exasperated look.

"Can you not ask anything but, 'what' now? Have you lost your speech ability?" Severus mocked, which would have been funny had Severus not been in a distasteful mood.

"Fine. How did you break free from the vision? I have never done that."

"Have you ever tried?" Severus asked, still leaning in the chair, elbows on the arms of the chair and his hands resting on his stomach; a position Harry had often taken in that chair, one that now Harry had seen it from a second person's perspective, seemed almost . . . _cocky_ to him.

"Well, no. It's been awhile, for one, and I've always been caught up in the vision, for two, and three . . . it's _Voldemort_. Why would you _want_ to enter his mind?"

"I had no choice in the matter. I realized that once I was there, I might try to find some useful information – habit as a spy, I suppose – but his shields were too strong. I want to see how strong your shields are now. I want to try as hard as I possibly can to break them temporarily–."

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"No. No harm would come to either of us unless you _try_. Any shield that is broken can easily be fixed once the intruder is out – and often rebuilt while the intruder has relaxed and is merely shifting through your memories as their shield is less. Once I break yours – if I can – you will try to break mine. After that, I want to see exactly how your connection potion has affected us. Perhaps, we would be able to combine our shields to cover the two of us and possibly even magic strength, but I doubt it."

"Have you thought of a way to get us into our own bodies?" Harry asked, changing to subject.

"Possibly," Severus answered, sitting up to retrieve a book from his (well, Harry's, actually) bag. "A concept of soul travel, or astral projection, might be of some use. It is, apparently, more common in the muggle world than in the wizarding world and does not involve magic. Legal, so nothing to worry about in that area."

"Soul travel? How would that help?"

"It appears our both our souls are connected to both our bodies," Severus answered, explaining in his usual, I'm-Giving-You-All-The-Information-You'll-Need way. "Hopefully. If the potion worked differently, and we are simply connected to the wrong body, then we might have to take a slightly different path. But if we are both connected to each other, we _should_ be able to travel between bodies at will if the other is not occupying the body."

"So we could just . . . jump out of our bodies and climb back into our own?" Harry interrupted and Severus paused in his explanation.

"To put it simply, yes," Severus said. "But it is a bit more complicated than that. Learning to project astrally is a difficult task and precautions need to be taken. We need to speak to the headmaster for permission to visit a London bookstore. I should send you alone, but you don't know entirely what we need."

"There isn't anything in Diagon Alley or Hogsmede?" Harry asked and Severus/Harry shook his head.

"Not what we need. We will have better luck in a muggle store. Hermione said–."

"Hermione? You've been talking to Hermione?" Harry questioned.

"She is your friends. Unless something I did not know happened?"

"Of course not. But you . . . since when would you go to Hermione for information?"

"She was the best source I had on muggles," Severus answered and Harry/Severus crossed his arms.

"Right. Not like _I_ ever have much time to talk to her."

"You forget I already know everything you are learning in your classes."

"Right." A pause. "Continue, I guess. This soul thing, why would muggles know more about it than wizards?"

"They don't necessarily know _more _about it, but soul travel hasn't been practiced in the wizarding world in hundreds of years. There were simply more magical issues to be delved into. Also, finding the books in muggle London would be less suspicious. No one would recognize either one of us and we wouldn't have to put in an order under our names for an outdated, rare book."

"That makes sense," Harry shrugged, recessing to his own body behaviors instead of Severus'. "Voldemort might think that we're . . ." Harry trailed off. "_Could_ we use it against him?"

"Possibly, although he might have protections against it. He is extremely cautious and has many securities we do not know of."

"Dad?" Harry asked quietly after yet another moment of silence. Severus/Harry was looking down, observing the Phantom Mark once again.

"Stand," Severus said, and they both stood facing each other. "Clear your mind entirely, put up all the shields you possibly can. Fight me, but do not harm me. Try to keep me out . . ." Severus continued, saying the same things over, worded differently, until Harry finally nodded. Wand pointed at the son in his body, he whispered the most powerful _legilimens_ he could conjure.

Suddenly, Severus was surrounded by the utmost black he had ever seen – only, he knew he had seen it before. He tried pushing forward without leaving, but his efforts were pointless. He couldn't get past the wall. Instead of turning around, he reached forward, feeling instead of pushing. Wood. Rough in some places, smooth in others, but no signs of weakness. Trying to push once more and failing, he gave up and turned around to find an outline of an odd shaped door.

He was right. It was the cupboard. Severus wondered by Harry was making it this easy as he moved toward the door and pushed. No movement. Again. Once more, he pushed a little harder.

And he was out. _Should have made solid walls on all four sides_, Severus grumbled to himself.

Looking around, he realized it wasn't any lighter here, but at least he could see himself. Severus doubted that Harry would hide his memories in an area as simple as a darkened room, so he didn't bother trying for light. Instead of trying to move around the shields, he pushed into them. Hard, and then harder when he got no reaction. Refusing to leave, he pushed harder yet and was surprised and not too pleased when he found a memory.

_"What do you want, Potter?"_ _Severus asked harshly, and Harry shrugged. "If you are going to stand there, stand somewhere else. Preferably _out_ of my sight. I've seen enough of you to in the last twelves hours than I feel is necessary."_

_"I was thinking of what I want to eat!" Harry exclaimed, suddenly angry. "And I haven't even been around, except when they forced me to be. I was perfectly happy to sleep once Remus left!"_

_"Then go back to sleep! Your presence is, for the lack of a better word, _annoying_. And you must eat the mix that Weasley woman cooked up for you. Anything else will make you sick."_

_"I don't _want_ that," Harry whined. "It's good, but I want . . . something else. I just don't know _what_."_

_"Leave Potter. We're trapped together for the rest of the summer," Severus snapped, his voice threatening. "The less time you are near me, the better the chance that you will survive this summer."_

_Harry just stared at him, hurt hidden deeply in his eyes, before turning around and leaving the Grimmauld Place kitchen._

Once again, everything went black. Severus tried again and again to break through the shields, but was only able to get less-than-a-second glimpses at the few memories that slipped by and the emotions that went with them. After what felt like an hour, Severus left his son's mind.

Back in his own . . . back in Harry's body, he looked at his son, who was looking extremely tired.

"That was very good," Severus complemented.

"I let a memory though."

Another pause.

"That day, when you were brought to headquarters . . . you knew, of course," Severus stated, and Harry nodded, not needing to ask what it was his father was questioning. "You tried to spend quite a bit of time with me until . . . that memory. What were you thinking?"

"Why?" Harry asked, becoming suddenly defensive. "It doesn't matter, now. We both couldn't stand each other then, I thought it was some sort of sick joke, and you didn't want to spend any more time in my presence than necessary. We're _past_ that now. So why does it matter?"

"I was just wondering . . ."Severus started, but stopped.

"Since when do you think about what 'might have been'?" Harry asked, suddenly confused.

"Since now, I suppose. Perhaps being in your body has affected me in other ways."

"It might have been different," Harry agreed. "But we know it would be different if my mother married _you_ instead of James. She told me she loved you and James both in her letter to me, but she wasn't _happy_. At least when I was a teenager. It was different, but it wasn't _better_."

Severus glared, annoyed at his thoughts being picked apart by his child.

"I am going to speak with the headmaster. Do finish those essays," Severus said, leaving the office. Harry looked at the door thoughtfully after he left.

_I can't wait until things are back to normal_, Harry thought.


	21. 2: Dirty

**Thanks to: ladywatts, Flensa, Crazy-Physco, LivingStoneLily, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, honore, Beth5572, BatteredChild, ddamato, blue artemis, bandgeekforlife, KimSpiritTalks, for the**** reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: I miss those days of weekly updates . . . and I'm going to try to get back to that. I'm going to have to, I realized, if I'm ever going to finish the "It's Mutual" series within a timely fashion. So, therefore, if I don't have the next chapter up within a week and a half, you have my permission to yell at me. I have to get out of this lazy mood that I've been in for about a year now . . . it's horrible and I find it very annoying! I'm sure you do too, having to wait over a month for each chapter.**

**Second, I've decided I'm combining parts II and III of It's Mutual into one story. It's just going to be easier that way. I plan on having the story as one on Potions and Snitches eventually, anyway, despite the fact it's a trilogy. (The fourth one will be that, a separate story. It won't be of the same plotline)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 21 - Dirty**

A month. A _month_ as his father. A month fooling everyone, including Ron and Hermione, that they were each other.

Harry, honestly, was _sick _of it. He didn't realize how much he took for granted . . . even the short, impersonal times during class that he spent with his friends.

They both had it planned out, though. Their soul traveling was practiced enough that, if the situation was right, they could leave their bodies without much trouble. They knew that they needed to retake the potion . . . they really didn't know, though, _how_ they were going to reenter their own bodies.

"Ready?" Severus asked, holding out a glass for him to take. Harry shrugged, taking it. Immediately, he downed the potion and they both sat down in their own position-of-choice before Severus dimmed the lights.

"Ready," Harry answered after a bit, and he slowed his breathing, closing his eyes, trying to relax. Trying to persuade his soul that he didn't need the body . . . not right now. Once in a while, Harry felt his body twitch, a feeling that brought him back to his senses immediately, causing him to have to start over.

Finally, he felt himself in the right state, and he slowly rolled out of his body and stood. He had only done this about five times so far, and the feeling was always the same. Free, yet . . . not entirely disconcerting, but it was odd, seeing his father's body lying there; knowing that it _was_ his for the past month. Thinking about the body, he felt himself start to be pulled back.

_No_, he thought to himself. _I want to stay free_ . . . The pulling stopped after a bit, and he looked around. Sometimes, he could see his father, sometimes not. He had a feeling it was controllable, but they haven't learned how, yet.

Suddenly, he spotted _his own_ body, a feeling of want overcoming him, and he felt himself being pulled from that direction. This time, he didn't stop it. He wanted to be back in his own body, to go to his own classes, to practice quidditch . . . even help the lower years with all their annoying questions.

Harry opened his eyes and immediately stood, feeling disoriented. The stepping felt wrong, but he walked over to the bathroom anyway to look into the mirror. He was himself. Satisfied, he left the bathroom and found Severus standing.

"It worked!" Harry said, finding it odd that his own voice was being issued from his throat.

"Yes, it did," Severus drawled, glancing at the clock. It was near midnight. "Bed," he ordered. "You can stay here," his father suggested.

"No," Harry answered. "Honestly, I want my own bed . . . Night," he replied.

"Night," Severus answered, a little humor in his voice. Grabbing his bag, he left Severus' rooms and headed toward his own. Halfway there, though, he realized he didn't want to simply go back to his room to sleep. He was _finally_ back in his own body, and he was going to celebrate, sleep be damned.

For tradition sake, he took out his invisibility cloak and threw it over himself, not entirely sure where he wanted to go. He didn't want to chance running into a professor or Filch, though, even though he could claim he had some 'feeling' he needed to be wandering the halls that night.

For no other reason than simple curiosity, Harry headed back to the direction of the dungeons, choosing one that he hadn't gone down in a long time. Not bothering to bring out the Map, he set out to find any hidden passages that he could. A half an hour searching, though, he began to get bored. Apparently, there was a lack of passages here. He was about to turn around, now finding himself slightly tired, when he felt an odd tingle; one similar to the one he felt any time someone put up a magical ward.

Knowing that no one should be in this dungeon at this time of night (including himself) Harry went in the direction he felt the magic and soon spotted none other than Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in a corner where the candlelight did not reach. He could see them clearly enough, despite the darkness of the corridor, but their mouths were moving silently. Tentatively but somewhat instictively, Harry pushed his magic forward, trying to feel the magic in a way he never had before. It appeared to be a basic silencing charm. Silent himself, Harry tried to cancel it.

"No," Malfoy said, sounding as if he was answering a question. "He refuses to declare a side, but I don't think he likes mudbloods."

"Of course he doesn't! With all those new laws. If the Dark Lord asked him . . ."

"That's too dangerous, you dimwit," Draco snapped. "I'm sure the Dark Lord has a plan."

They were all silent for a bit before Malfoy spoke up again.

"Those damn aurors. I need to know how they found out about the room. I was lucky enough not to get caught, but the Dark Lord is angry, now."

"Is he? My father hasn't said anything about that . . ." Crabbe said slowly. "You weren't caught . . ."

"Oh, shove off," spat Malfoy. "_You _don't know anything about it, and neither do your fathers. _I_ was the one at the meeting. _I_ was the one the Dark Lord asked," he continued, sounding important. "He's mad and he wants me to fix it. And I will."

"I bet it's Snape. Or Potter."

"Or both," Goyle added, and both Slytherins earned a glare from Malfoy. "You need them, right?"

"Apparently, both of you are too stupid to understand. The _Dark Lord_ wants them. Not dead, of course . . . he has something else planned. He has, of course, given me a few of the details." Malfoy looked over his two 'companions' with disdain. "I don't even know why I bother," he mumbled before waving his wand, probably to cancel the already-dead silencing spell. "I have work to do. You two better not tell anyone, or you _will_ regret it."

Crabbe and Goyle left Malfoy, munching on chocolate, and Harry made sure to keep his distance from the blonde Slytherin, who was looking around carefully. Further down the corridor, he stopped at a painting and Harry watched carefully as he made a complicated wand movement. As quick as a bee buzzing by, he felt some magic zip through him, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what was going on. He _sometimes_ felt magic, usually wards, but this was different.

He made a mental note to talk to Severus about it.

Quickly and quietly as he could, Harry slipped through a small opening beneath the painting. He had to roll in, it was so low and small, and he almost rolled into Malfoy, who had stopped on his stomach and was slowly getting to his knees. Waiting until the Slytherin was far enough away from him, he knelt, too, making sure the cloak was covering him entirely, and realized the ceiling was especially low. In the end, he wound up crawling to keep up with Malfoy, who was walking, crouched low in a position which _must_ have been hurting his back.

Much too long on his hands and knees, Harry was glad when the house elf size corridor opened up into a decent size room. Keeping aware of Malfoy's location, Harry looked around, taking in everything that he could. There were a few books scattered about, but no brewing potions, and there was a desk behind a screen but even that held nothing of interest that he could tell. Inwardly sighing, Harry came out from behind the screen to find Malfoy sitting on a floor cushion, reading a book that appeared to be written in a language other than English. Sneaking as close as he would dare, Harry recognized the style – from the few, brief language lessons his father gave him – as German. Nothing he could made out.

Giving up and deciding to sit and wait to see what Malfoy would do next, he turned around and nearly tripped over a black and gray, long-haired cat who was apparently sniffing around him.

_Damn it_, he thought and moved to walk around it. The cat followed, so he stopped, glancing at Malfoy. He hadn't noticed. Yet. Harry stayed put as he tried to think of any spell he could use to confuse the cat, but he could only think of charms to use on humans.

"What's the matter, Shadow?" Harry heard Malfoy asked, and Harry's heart stopped for a few beats as the cat pawed at the bottom of his invisibility cloak, and the air refused to reenter his body as he saw the cat's paw disappear for a split second before reappearing again.

"Potter," he heard Malfoy whisper. "Accio Invisibility Cloak!" he called, and Harry grabbed on to it for dear life. Unexpectedly, the cloak made no move to uncover it's master's hiding spot. "You best come out, Potter," Malfoy said, his voice low and quiet, but not quite as dangerous as Severus could make his. "Perhaps I'll made this a little easier on you if you do . . ."

Harry didn't answer. He didn't see the point. Malfoy couldn't know it was him for sure. It might just be a ploy to get him to uncover himself; merely guesswork. _Pretty good damn guess_, he thought to himself.

Harry put up a silencing charm around himself. He didn't know why he didn't think of it sooner, but as soon as he did, he took a step backwards, keeping his eyes on Malfoy, who was staring intently at his location, his eyes a bit unfocused. Harry took another step backwards, and another, heading for the small corridor. Malfoy's eyes didn't follow him, and he was sure he was about to get out of the room free of being caught when he suddenly fell backwards, tripping over something.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Harry felt himself stiffen, unable to move, and he tried not to panic. He could get out of it . . . it was something that Severus taught him. He still had his wand in his hand, and, although he couldn't speak, he murmured 'finite incantatem' in his head over and over, willing himself to be free of the binds. Slowly, as he remembered, he felt the curse unravel, and he made sure he stayed perfectly still as Malfoy inched closer to pull the cloak off of him and throwing it aside.

"Not too clever, are you Potter?" the blonde boy sneered and it took every inch of Harry not to respond. As much as he tried, though, his left leg gave a little twitch, giving away his still-bodied bluff. Not having much time to think as Malfoy already had his wand pointed at him, he yelled a quick, "stupify!" which Malfoy avoided. He had too much warning. Putting up a quick shield, he stood up, prepared to duel.

"Cru–." Malfoy started, and Harry yelled the first hex that came to mind.

"Remsticu!" he shouted, his curse hitting its mark on Malfoy's right shoulder, and he froze as Malfoy dropped immediately.

It was a Dark curse; one that he learned recently from his father. It sent the hexed into a dark, nasty dream, and often times, if left in the dream long enough, something would go and they would die. It was usually the heart.

Realizing what he had done, Harry cast the counter curse, made sure Malfoy was breathing and stunned him immediately, not wanting to have to duel the Slytherin. As he felt right now, he didn't trust himself not to use those curses and hexes that were, by the government and most often times his own conscious, off limits.

Heart beating a little too fast, Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and stumbled toward the small room entrance before dropping to his hands and knees and crawling out, not able to stop thinking about how easily that a Dark hex came from his own wand and mouth. It seemed almost surreal. Here he was, learning the Dark Arts so he could fight _against _them more readily and fully and he just used one in a simple duel in which his opponent could have been taken out in especially easy means.

Feeling dirty, Harry got to the end of the tunnel and he stood up outside the painting, making sure of the spot before casting an illusion spell so he didn't have to waste time trying to close the entrance from the outside. Doing that somehow brought him out of the self-hating mood he found for himself and he threw on his invisibility cloak as he ran toward the headmaster's office.

Of course, it being two in the morning, Dumbledore wasn't in his office, so after he knocked on the door a few times, he sat down in the waiting area and hoped that Dumbledore was getting up.

_Maybe this could have waited until morning,_ he thought to himself, yawning, but then he realized it couldn't. He left Malfoy in that room, stunned.

After about twenty minutes, Dumbledore _did_ enter the room, looking a bit worried.

"As you've only knocked a few times, I assumed it wasn't entirely urgent," he said, sounding tired and Harry felt a bit guilty. "I hope you don't mine I took some time to dress myself properly. Now, my boy, what is the matter?"

"Malfoy," Harry stated plainly. "He was talking to Crabbe and Goyle about half an hour ago, then I followed Malfoy to a hidden room and then he attacked me. He's stunned in the room right now."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "Well, I should really have a look. Lead the way."

Back down in the dungeons, Harry lead him to the painting, canceled the illusion spell, and explained to Dumbledore that it had a very low ceiling before kneeling down to climb in. Just when he was about to enter, the entrance grew, and Harry stood up fast, startled.

"Again, I hope you don't mind, my dear boy. I fear it would do me no good to crawl, you see, so I enlarged the tunnel."

Harry, surprised that it was possible and amazed at how powerful Dumbledore must have been to be able to do that in the first place, he cautiously entered the tunnel and lead Dumbledore into the room. He stopped upon entrance, suddenly angry.

"He's gone!" he exclaimed and Dumbledore started looking around.

"Interesting," Dumbledore said. "These used to be used for the house elves. I'm surprised he found one of them."

"The room?" Harry asked, still angry, and Dumbledore nodded slowly. "He got away," Harry pointed out again. "And he took all the books he had here with him. The book! I should have brought them!"

"Do you know what they were?"

"No. Most of them were in a different language. One of them was German, I'm sure of it."

"Harry," Dumbledore said quietly, and the Gryffindor looked at the old man, stopping his rant to listen what he would have to say. "Don't blame yourself for him finding a way out. You did well, following him."

"He just did better getting away," Harry grumbled, and Dumbledore gave him a sad smile.

"I am glad that you and your father are finally in your correct bodies. It was quite confusing remembering who I was talking with before. But perhaps you should go to bed, now. I'm sure you are very tired and you have a very comfortable bed waiting for you in your room."

Harry recognized the dismissal and he left Dumbledore to search the room himself, sure that the man would be asking for his memory of the event later that day.

Once again, instead of heading to his room, he went to his father's sleeping quarters and fell onto the sofa in there, glad that his father wasn't up to scold him.

IIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

The next day, Harry woke early to his father standing over him, staring at him.

"What are you doing here? On the _sofa_, no less!" Severus said, and Harry sat up cautiously, shrugging.

"Er . . ." he answered slowly. "There was a problem last night. You see, I stumbled across Malfoy and I followed him, and then he sort of . . . went missing."

"Went missing?" Severus asked dangerously, and Harry couldn't help but think how nice it was to hear his father scolding him using his _father's_ voice and not his own. Very refreshing.

"I stunned him and then after I went to get Dumbledore, he . . . wasn't there."

"I see," Severus answered, sitting down. "Harry, remember when I said I was able to find parts of the Dark Lord's memories?" Harry nodded, wondering where his father was going with this. It made him nervous to see that Severus was thinking of not suggesting it. That meant he really didn't want Harry to do it. The problem was, though, that since Harry joined the Order, Severus _had_ been treating him more like an adult that a child. It was nice, he had to admit, but he . . .

It was hard to explain. It was almost like Severus wasn't as protective of Harry as he was just last year. Not that it was a bad thing, of course. He didn't want his father telling him, constantly, that something was too dangerous, or he shouldn't do that . . . but . . .

It really was too hard to explain; it wasn't a feeling Harry could put in words, and that unnerved Harry more than he felt it should. He was an adult, and Severus was merely treating him like one. End of story.

"I believe you should try. Try for a recent memory or, if possible, what he is doing now. Some information on Malfoy. But be careful. Do _not_ allow him to realize you have entered his mind. You should be able to do it without too much difficulty. You have, after all, entered my mind without me realizing it."

Harry just looked at his father with a look of disbelief.

"You want me to enter _his_ mind? Are you mad?"

"Someday, it might be necessary. The Dark Lord knows you know of Malfoy's involvement with him and might choose you use that against you. If you can manage, we might have unlimited access to all the information we need!"

"Yes, but what if he catches me? What if . . . what if he somehow traps me in his mind or accidently kills me through our link?"

"Unlikely," Severus answered.

"Unlikely? But still a possibility!"

"Fine, _don't_ try! I was able to relay some information, perhaps not too important, but it was information just the same, to Dumbledore during the past month. I was able to do it even though I was unfamiliar with the connection, but you've _lived_ with it for years! You should be able to enter his mind with more ease than I was able to!"

"But what if I don't_ want_ to! What if I learn something I don't want to know? Or, what if it makes me more like him, spending time in his body? I already used a dark curse on Malfoy without even thinking about it!"

The room grew silent for about a minute before Severus, who was glaring at his son before, softened his face and now looked confused.

"What curse?"

"The Nightmare Curse. I took it off immediately!" Harry defended himself. "But the problem was that I used it, without even thinking! I don't want to learn the Dark Arts anymore. What if I get angry and use some deadly curse on someone who _doesn't_ deserve it?"

"You want to stop learning the Dark Arts?" Severus asked quietly.

"Yes!"

"That won't solve anything," he answered.

"Maybe not, but at least I won't be tempted to use a hex I don't know."

"Perhaps we should just work on theory, then," Severus concluded slowly.

"Okay," Harry answered with a nod, feeling someone safer.

But, for some reason, he still felt dirty.

"I need a bath," he said quickly, and he left for the bathroom before his father could respond.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

_"Draco Malfoy," hissed Voldemort slowly. "Have you failed me?"_

_"I don't know, my Lord," Malfoy answered, not looking up. "But . . . I have news that might be useful. In the room, I dueled with Potter. I was able to get away, of course, but . . . I think he knows. But," he continued before he could be punished for failing, "he used a Dark curse on me, I think. I haven't heard of it, but it sent me into a nightmare. A bad one. I asked my father about it before coming here, and he said he knew of it, but he wouldn't tell me what it was."_

_"Good, good," he drew out. "You won't be punished, yet."_

_"Thank you, my Lord," Malfoy sighed._

_"You will return to Hogwarts."_

_"Wh– Hogwarts, my Lord?" Malfoy asked. "Wouldn't that be dangerous? If Potter told the headmaster or Snape what happened . . ."_

_"Then that would be your fault, would it not?" Voldemort concluded._

_"Yes, my Lord," Malfoy answered, defeated. "When should I return?"_

_"Tonight. Before your classmates wake up."_

_"Yes, my Lord."_

_"Do not make another mistake, Draco Malfoy. I will not be as forgiving a third time."_

_"Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord."_

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

As soon as Harry woke up from the vision, he paid a visit to Dumbledore. Dumbledore, though, didn't appear to think it as important as Harry thought it was.

"But he's come back! You can't possibly allow that!" Harry said, angry.

"I believe it is for the best, Harry," Dumbledore answered, "not to expel Mr. Malfoy. He could be of use to us in the future and there is always the change a debt could be claimed. For the time being, he is no threat to any of the students because Voldemort wishes him to stay here."

"I don't think he sent Malfoy back here to work," Harry said after thinking it over for a few minutes. "I think he sent him here so he _could_ be expelled and punished by the Ministry. Another blow on the Malfoy name," he concluded.

"Yes, perhaps," Dumbledore nodded, taking a sip of tea. "Which is why we will keep quiet. Keep an eye on him, would you Harry?"

Harry grumbled as he slid his chair back and stood up.

"Of course I will! I'm not going to let him wander around the school himself!"

Harry left the headmaster's office, startling the gargoyle as he barged past, not noticing the small smile that played on Dumbledore's face as he left.


	22. 2: Buildup

**Thanks to ****Mrs.Iuyasha, Flensa, excessivelyperky, LivingStoneLily, honore, Crazy-Physco, bandgeekforlife, JWOHPfan, Beth5572, BatteredChild, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, blue artemis, and ****Delaine**** for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone. **

**A/N: Sorry it's short, but I'd really like the events after this to be separate from this chapter . . . **

**Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be. **

**Chapter 22 - Buildup **

_Mr. Harry James Potter-Snape, _

_ Thank you for application for the Auror Apprenticeship. It is currently in the process of being reviewed. _

_ In order for your application to be finished, you must make an appointment with the office for magical testing and an interview. Both must be separate, the magical testing first. _

_ Please reply by April 16, 1997. _

_Regards, _

_January Maibell _

_Auror Department Head Secretary_

After reading the letter through quickly, Harry looked up and across the Great Hall at Malfoy, who was, once again, shooting him a suspicious look. Well, why not? Since Malfoy attacked Harry and came back a little over a month ago, there had been no aurors, no expulsion . . . Malfoy had every reason to suspect Harry had something up his sleeve. True to some suspicions Malfoy might have, Harry _had_ been keeping tabs on the Slytherin, with a little help from Severus.

He really should have been expelled. And thrown in Azkaban. Not for the first time, Harry wondered if Dumbledore actually knew what he was doing, or if he just make it up as he went along and hoped for the best.

Harry looked back down at the letter. A test and an interview. Like he was going to have the time! Already, every moment of his day was either scheduled or talking with students for his duties as Head Boy. He wondered if he could schedule it during the weekend as he looked up at his father with a questioning look. Usually, Severus didn't look at him much in the Great Hall other than to greet or say goodbye, but now he was looking intensely at him. Harry signaled a 'later' before turning to Hermione, who was talking eagerly about Defense class, which was later in the day.

". . . sure about the rules, you know. Sure, there will be your usual 'no Unforgivables' and no Dark Arts . . . nothing that could seriously injure someone. But will we be doing it as a team, or individually?"

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Harry asked, confused. Was it a test of some sort?

"Weren't you listening at all?" Hermione asked, exasperated.

"Er . . . no, not really," Harry answered. "I know you're talking about DADA, but other than that, I'm at a loss."

"You should know," Ron said, actually swallowing before talking. "It _is_ your father's class."

Instead of a confused look this time, Harry shot a suspicious glare up at his father. Mysteriously, though, the man had disappeared. Silently growling, he turned back toward Hermione.

"What about that note he passed to you when you came in? Did you read it?" Hermione sounded irritated. If they weren't in the Great Hall, she'd say that he was too busy thinking about Malfoy than doing what he was supposed to be doing – but that wasn't true. Most of his time was spent studying or coaching or helping other people. He had other ways to track Malfoy.

Just now comprehending what Hermione said – she rolled her eyes at his obvious inattention – Harry picked up the note that Luna had given him on her way into the Great Hall. Before opening it, it was noticeably from Severus. He opened it.

_Harry – _

_ Attend the seventh year Defense class today. Bring your wand. _

_– Severus_

_Bring my wand_, Harry thought with a small laugh. Yeah, like he was ever without it!

"Well?" Ron asked.

"I'm to join your Defense class today. Well, he didn't specify _which _one, but I'm free during your class . . ."

"Oh! Maybe he'll have you judge, Harry! Now, you have to be fair if you do," she pointed out. "No cheating."

"Or he just wants him to compete," Ron interrupted before Hermione could start off. "Show him off. He did train Harry himself, remember."

"I am right here, remember," Harry answered. "And I really am listening this time."

"Yes, maybe . . . but that wouldn't be very far. Harry is probably far ahead of us. Have you seen the books Professor Snape has him working out of?"

"Has him working all summer," Ron grumbled.

"Okay," Harry said, standing, not knowing whether to be amused or annoyed that they were talking about him as if he wasn't there. "I'm off to class then."

"Oh, bye, Harry!" Ron and Hermione said together.

Almost stiffly, Harry stood and gathered his two letters and his transfiguration book before shoving them into his bag and leaving. He felt so distanced from them lately, more so in moments like this. It wasn't the first time they talked about him like that. Usually, Harry didn't blame them; half the time they were together, he was thinking about something or studying.

Walking slowly to Transfiguration, he thought back to previous years. It seemed that, then, _nothing _would have kept them apart. They did everything together, unless there was a fight of some sort. Harry wondered if it was because Ron and Hermione had been dating for awhile, or if it was just because he was so damn busy. Or, perhaps, they weren't that much alike anymore.

Ginny had pointed out to him not to long ago, sometime after Christmas, that it seemed like he was slowly turning into his father. Not in the looks department, because he'd been looking so much like Severus for about seven months now anyway, but in how he regarded everyone.

Harry wanted to blame the Voices. It was, after all, their fault that Severus agreed to their stupid . . . _agreement_ anyway. It's the entire reason his father had been pushing him so hard. Well, according to Severus, not the _only _reason. The man said it was his job to make sure he does well in life.

But, right now, his life didn't feel to be going so well. For as long as he could remember, he told himself he'd give almost anything to have a family. Now, he had one, but it seemed to have taken away his friends.

Not that he didn't want Severus to be his father!

Everything was just so confusing. He needed someone to talk to, but, once again, he had no idea who.

IJiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiii

It was about ten minutes before Ron and Hermione's Defense NEWT, and Harry was sitting at one of the desks, just . . . waiting. Severus wasn't there yet, and neither were any of the students. Slightly paranoid, Harry check the letter from his father to be sure that it didn't state a different location, but nope . . . it just said to be there.

Harry relaxed as the first few students, a few Hufflepuffs, trickled in, giving him odd looks. That didn't surprise him, though. He hadn't attended an actual DADA class for most of the year.

Almost late, Hermione and Ron walked into the classroom and sat down on either side of Harry giving him a smile – which made his feel a bit better – and shortly after, Severus stalked in.

"Today, as you already know, begins the seventh year final exam. Keep in mind that how you do in this tournament will not affect your NEWTs, but could very well help you understand certain problems you may not have grasped previously.

"All duels will be one-on-one and several will proceed simultaneously. Mr. Potter and I will be watching all duels carefully. The board," Severus said, flipping the chalk board with his wand so it was readable, "is charmed to calculate the duels that take place. The winners of each section at the end of the tournament will duel Mr. Potter. No arguing placements. Find your first opponent."

IIIIIIIIIiiiiiiIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIIi

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked when all the other seventh years have left.

"I did," Severus answered flatly.

"Yes, in a note the day it started."

"You would have argued otherwise."

Harry threw up his hands, not wanting to argue at the moment.

"Right."

"What did you have to show me before? The letter?" Severus asked, changing the subject. Remembering, Harry dug through his bag before finding the Ministry-sent letter.

"I have to set up two appointments to finish my apprenticeship application," Harry answered, handing the letter to his father. Severus read it through quickly before handing it back.

"Write back immediately," he answered. "It shows initiative. You would be allowed to take class time off for those."

"Will I have to prepare something?"

"I'm sure you are prepared enough. If you need to bring something, they will notify you," Severus answered. Harry nodded slowly and they stood, staring at each other for a minutes. "Well?" Severus asked.

"I'm going!" Harry answered.

IIIiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiIIIIIIIIIiii

Two weeks later, six in the morning – an hour and a half before he usually got out of bed – Harry was sitting in the waiting room of the main auror office, half asleep. His magical testing seemed to have gone alright, a week before. They didn't make him do anything hard, anyway. Now, though, he felt nervous. It was an odd combination, being tired and nervous.

Thankfully, it wasn't long before a familiar face came out of an office, and Harry stood to greet him.

"Hello, Harry Potter-Snape," the man greeted.

"Morning, Auror Shacklebolt," Harry nearly grumbled, standing shaky on his feet.

"A little tired this morning, as we?" he teased, and Harry shrugged, even though a voice that sounded almost like Severus told him to act more formal than he was doing. "This way." Shacklebolt stood with the door open, and Harry entered, waited for the auror to take a seat and sat down in the not-too-comfortable chair. Actually, the chair wasn't one bit comfortable, and Harry had to keep shifting.

"So, according to your application," the man said, looking at a roll of parchment, "you are scheduled to take your WPAM exam shortly after your NEWTs?"

"Yes, sir," Harry answered.

"And that Severus has been giving you extra lessons?"

"Yes, sir."

The silence, although uncomfortable to Harry, didn't seem to bother the auror. Finally, the man spoke again.

"I will be honest with you, Harry," Shacklebolt said, and Harry's breath almost caught. "The headmaster has spoken to me, and I, personally, know more about you than the rest of the auror department, or anyone else in the Ministry. I have asked to review your application personally, because of this."

Harry nodded hesitantly.

"Albus has told me of your potion creation, and how it helped you. I also know of your connection to these . . . Voices I was told about. Has the problem been solved?"

"I think so," Harry answered, his own voice cracking a bit. "But . . . they're still at Hogwarts."

"I know," Shacklebolt said. "Now, the headmaster is convinced otherwise, but – tell the truth – have you practiced or learned any Dark Arts? An answer in the affirmative will not go with or against your placement."

Harry didn't answer at first. Tentatively, he nodded.

"I . . . know some. My father has taught me some, to prepare me against Voldemort more. Do you . . . know . . ." Harry couldn't bring himself to say it.

"The prophecy? Yes. The headmaster has informed me of anything that could be of use. I will, of course, be keeping this information confidential."

"Oh." A pause. "He's just teaching me theory, now. I . . . don't want to learn it anymore."

"Why not?"

"Because . . ." he paused. Why didn't he? "It makes me feel dirty. Not practicing – that doesn't – but I had to use a Dark Arts curse because of a problem the other day, and it made me feel horrible."

Shacklebolt nodded and continued to stare.

"Your animagus form," he said. "An moke. That's interesting. Are you able to completely transform?"

Harry nodded.

"What's interesting about it?" Harry asked.

"It's a magical form. Nothing extraordinary, but it is unusual. Useful, too. A very good form for an auror."

"Really?" Harry asked. Shacklebolt nodded.

"Tell me, Harry, why do you really want to be an auror?" Shacklebolt leaned forward on the desk as he asked this, his stare intensifying. Harry, trying to avoid the gaze, turn his gaze down before he answered.

"I . . . want to. Defense is the only thing I've been really good at, at Hogwarts, I suppose. And I really want to stop Dark Wizards . . . and Voldemort."

"The only thing you've been good at," Shacklebolt repeated slowly, and Harry nodded, as if he said something wrong. "You are shortly on your way to your Potions Mastery, at seventeen years old, you were the youngest quidditch player in one hundred years and are now the captain of that team. How is Defense your only ability?"

"Well, I don't want to fly for a living. That's seems . . . well, pointless. I like flying for fun or games, not for a job," Harry answered with conviction. "And my father has been pushing me in potions since he found out we were related."

"He could push he wanted, and it would not have gotten as far as quickly as you did if you had no talent for the craft," Shacklebolt answered harshly, as if he were rebuking a young, careless child.

"It was probably the Voices, really," Harry answered in a much quieter voice. "They had some control . . . Look, I don't really know _why_ I want to be an auror. It just feels like the right thing to do."

Shacklebolt nodded, seeming to finally get the answer he was looking for. Harry relaxed, and he was glad that the rest of the interview went smoothly.


	23. 2: Overload

**Thanks to ****GeminiSoul01, spacemonkey1129, SusanDay, LivingStoneLily, excessivelyperky, Flensa, JWOHPfan, bandgeekforlife, Beth5572, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, and blue artemis ****for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: First off, if you haven't read the updated versions of Chapter 1 and 2 of It's Mutual I, go do that. I put up the rewritten version of chapter 2 on this site today. I've added Remus and a few other things that might make the end of this chapter make a bit more sense.**

**Second, although the Voice issue isn't completely resolved this chapter, there won't be any more explanations until It's Mutual 4. I WILL be hinting at some things that will be important for IM 4 that might interest you, but nothing direct will be put in. Anyway, Severus' conclusion on the matter _is_ more or less sound, in case you are wondering, if you are wondering how right he is . . . honestly, he's pretty damn close. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 23 - Overload**

Harry was laying on his bed, feeling as if the only good thing he could do right now was cast a fire spell on the potions book he was reading. He was just about finished with the material he needed to know for the WPAM exam, but now he had to review everything; know it _perfectly._ And not only that, but he had NEWTs to study for: transfiguration, charms, and herbology. He wasn't worried about the potions and DADA . . . or even herbology for that matter, but his Law and Relations final exams were going to be hard. _Especially_ since the auror department will be looking at the final grades for those classes.

It really didn't help that a bunch of the fifth years were asking for help with studying for their OWLs and have been after him almost constantly for the past three weeks. Or that the last quidditch game was in a week, and the team had been _insisting _on practices every week.

Honestly, when it came down to it, he felt sick. He just had this feeling that he wasn't going to do well enough on any of the exams and that Severus – his _father_ – wasn't going to be happy with him. His dad liked things done well, and with all that extra time he had spent on teaching Harry . . . well, Harry was sure Severus was be down right angry with him if he didn't pass.

The three or four hours of sleep he was getting a night wasn't helping. In fact, he felt better when he didn't sleep and just kept drinking a vial of his own version of _PepperUp_ every few hours. But the problem with that was, when he didn't get any sleep during the night he was even more prone to falling asleep when he was studying. In fact, just the other day he fell asleep in his law class and was given a detention for it. Thankfully, Severus either hadn't noticed or hadn't commented on the detention, which Harry was glad about.

Harry groaned when he heard a knock on his door. He was hoping that tonight – _maybe_ – he could get through the time after dinner to himself and get caught up. He felt as if he was completely behind. Whoever was at the door knocked again, this time louder, and Harry snapped a 'be right there!" at the door, cringing when he realized how rude he sounded. Smoothing his chin length hair, he opened the door and smiled when he saw that it was Ron and Hermione.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione said and Ron gave a nod. "What are you doing?"

"Studying," Harry answered.

"Studying?" Ron asked. "Is that all you do?"

"I do have a lot to study, Ron," he answered flatly.

"Of course you do, Harry. But you _have _been studying constantly for the past month, it feels like."

"I do not study constantly," Harry said defensively. "Quidditch," he reminded them.

"Still, Harry, come to the Great Hall with us. The seventh years are throwing an impromptu party. Everyone's being round up, now. It's going to be fun," Hermione said, but Harry shook his head.

"I have a lot to get done. Sorry," he said.

"Harry," Ron said, stopping Harry from retreating into his room. "You can't just spend so much time in your room studying. It's not good for you."

"I have a lot I need to get done," Harry said slower, his impatience starting to show and his voice adopting a low drawl similar to his father's. "And I really want to get it done now."

"Alright," Ron said slowly. "If you say so." Ron left, looking over his shoulder to give an odd glance at his friend. Hermione stayed for a few seconds longer and was about to speak when Harry just slammed the door in her face.

––––—

Hermione and Ron sat huddled in the corner of the darkened Great Hall, discussing Harry's behavior.

"I'm going to Professor Snape," Hermione said suddenly.

"What? Why?" Ron asked.

"Ron, it's obviously Professor Snape who's making him work this hard. Since when did _Harry_ become so diligent when it came to school?"

"Never?" Ron said, as if it was completely obvious.

"_No_, Ron. Since he found out he had a father who was still living. Remember that summer? How he read _so_ many of those books? We didn't know Professor Snape was his father, but Harry did. And Professor Snape did, too, but they both pretended not to know."

"Are you saying that Harry's acting this way to please Snape?"

"Yes," Hermione answered. "Ron, he's taking the WPAM exam soon. At _seventeen _years old. He really doesn't like potions that much, even still."

"Snape wouldn't care, right? That's bloody stupid, him working himself like that."

"And that's why we need to talk to his dad. If he won't listen to us, he'll listen to the Professor."

"Right," Ron said, hesitantly.

"You don't want to talk to him."

"Not really, no. Look, I _realize_ he's Harry's dad and he's not the horrible Snape we've known for our first five years at Hogwarts and I _realize_ he's not . . . bad, but I don't really want to talk to him about Harry."

Hermione rolled her eyes with a small huff.

"Fine. I'll go talk to him alone."

"Now?" Ron asked.

"Ronald!" Hermione rolled her eyes again and Ron gave her an apologetic smile as she left the Great Hall. She took her time walking to the dungeons, trying to think of what to say and hoping that Harry wasn't down there. From what it looked like, though, Harry wasn't going to be up all night studying.

When she reached Professor Snape's office door, she paused before knocking, not as confident in her decision as she was in the Great Hall. A part of her just kept thinking that the Professor was pushing Harry intentionally, as irrational as she knew that sounded. Finally, though, she knocked and waited.

It was a minute later when Snape managed answer, and Hermione realized she probably should have gone to his quarters instead of his office. It was nine at night, after all.

"Can we talk?" she asked before Snape could say anything. "It's important, I think."

He glared at her shortly before stepping aside and letting her enter the office. She didn't bother sitting, but as soon as he closed the door, she began talking.

"It's Harry. I think he's over working himself. He sort of . . . yelled at us earlier when we invited him to the seventh year party."

"Sort of yelled at you," Severus drawled.

"Well, it . . . was sort of how you yell at people. All quiet-like and dangerous sounding. He said he had a lot of work to do before tomorrow."

"Then I'm sure he does, Ms. Granger," Severus answered flatly.

"I realize he does, but he seems to _always_ be doing something. He hasn't stopped to even talk to Ron and me at all during the past month. And he won't listen to us."

"I will look into it, Ms. Granger," he said, with more finality than before. Hermione nodded with a quiet 'thanks' and let herself out of the office.

Severus turned around and went back to his rooms, Harry back on his mind. He didn't think Harry was overworking himself; after all, all he had to do now was review old material outside of lessons as all knew material for potions was being done during the lessons. They even stopped going over any new material for defense to allow more time to revise for the NEWTs coming up.

Getting back to grading second and third year papers, Severus tried to put his son out of his mind for the time being. He was more or less successful until he finished grading and he looked at the time. Nearly one in the morning.

_It couldn't hurt to check up on him_, Severus thought. The more the thought lingered in his mind, the more he realized it _was_ possible Harry was a little too exhausted. There was that detention, although he didn't think much of it at the time. He knew his son didn't like the law class, but he had never fallen asleep in class for . . . a long time.

Making his decision, Severus stood up and made his way to the Head Boy's room, thinking he would find his son asleep. He knocked lightly on the door and after he got no response, he knocked a little harder. Still not getting an answer, he let himself into the rooms and was surprised to find Harry jump up, wand out and ready.

"Dad!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Just seeing how you are. I just finished grading and am not ready to go to bed, yet."

"Oh," he said, and Severus looked at him closely. The boy didn't look good, that was for sure. His eyes weren't red, but they were watery, and there were dark circles below them.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked as Harry sat back down. Curious, Severus walked up to the desk and recognized their most recent potions text.

"Just a little tired," Harry answered. "I just want to finish this up."

"You should get to bed, Harry."

"Soon."

"No, you should get to bed now. Go take a warm shower. You can work on this later." Severus looked down at the chapter he was reading. "We aren't working on his for a week. I said you didn't have to do any preliminary reading." Harry shrugged.

"I still like to."

"Harry?" Severus asked and waited until the young man was looking him in the eyes. "When was the last time you've had a full night's sleep?"

Harry shrugged again.

"A while, I suppose. I've just been so busy."

Severus nodded slowly. "Awhile. A week then?" Harry gave a shrug that was obviously a no. "Two? Three?" Harry still didn't respond. "Harry, you can't not sleep for that long."

Instinctively, Severus looked toward the bed to see if it was made – Harry rarely made his bed neatly – but it looked as if he had been using it. It was what was near the bed that caught his attention. In an open cupboard was a bottle of a green potion. It took him a few moments, but he recognized it as Harry's own wake-up potion. An experiment that Severus had him do about two months ago. There were enough single vials there to last him a long time . . . months. But . . .

"Harry, take tomorrow off. Sleep in, don't do any revising or papers. I will speak with your other professors to explain."

"Why?" Harry asked offensively.

"You're tired. You need rest. Quite honestly, you look horrible right now."

"I'm fine," Harry said, and Severus could tell he was trying to control an outburst.

"No, you're not."

"Yes I am!" Harry said and suddenly knocked everything off his desk, including his inkwell and quill. Thankfully, the ink got on nothing but the floor and Severus banished the ink.

"No, you are not, Harry. Go take a shower." Severus gently helped his son stand up and guided him toward the bathroom.

––

Harry let himself be guided. A shower did sound nice, even though he felt so tired he would probably fall asleep standing up. It wasn't until the bathroom door was closed and he was stripping, a little more awake now that he was moving around, that he wondered what he was going to do. If Severus was going to make it so he _doesn't_ study ahead, he would never know the material. The only reason he was able to keep up, _especially_ in potions, was because he was constantly going over the material.

Severus didn't understand.

–---—

Severus waited in Harry's room for half an hour before he started to get worried. Harry was never one to take a long shower, and the boy's tired state of mind began to worry him. Although he hadn't heard anything suspicious, Severus walked to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Harry?" he asked, and he got no answer. "Harry? Are you awake?" Still no answer. "Harry, answer me or I am going in."

Nothing still. Worried, Severus opened the bathroom door slowly and heard the water still running, but no movements.

"Harry?" he asked yet again. When he received no response, he walked over to the shower and found Harry sitting on the floor, water pounding down on his chest, the boy asleep. Shaking his head, but glad that Harry had sat down instead of fallen down, Severus found a towel and turned off the water. Even the lack of a constant stream of water didn't wake him, so he knelt down and shook his son gently.

He knew the boy was alive, but it worried him that Harry wasn't waking. _How much sleep has he not gotten_? he wondered and did the only thing he could think of. He wrapped the boy in the towel, picked him up and carried him to his bed. Not wanting to invade the boy's privacy too much, Severus just put a night shirt on him and tucked him into the bed.

–-–---

Harry woke up slowly, feeling as if he was missing something. At the same time, though, he felt extremely warm and comfortable and he was hesitant to move even if it meant finding out what he was supposed to be doing. It felt like it had been forever since he felt as good as he felt just then.

Suddenly, he sat up, nearly jumping out of bed and not even realizing he only had his nightshirt on until he reached his wardrobe. Then last night came back to him, and he stood there, stunned and not quite sure where to go now.

_I must have fallen asleep in the shower_, he deduced, still a little confused. He vaguely remembered that Severus told him to take the day off and he checked the time. It was nearly six in the evening. He had missed all of his classes.

Although he felt better than he had in a long time, he now had the horrible feeling that he had a lot to catch up on. As he quickly gathered clothes to wear, he thought through what they probably did in each of his classes today and he felt slightly better. It would have been nothing that he didn't already know.

That settled in his mind, he quickly dressed and sat down at his desk and grabbed for his inkwell. Empty. It took him a few seconds to remembered last night and he put his head on his arms in embarrassment. Severus was probably extremely angry with him. Deciding he would have to apologize later, he took out another bottle of ink and began working where he left off yesterday.

It surprised him how much easier it was to understand what the book was saying this time. It felt so obvious he nearly felt stupid how he just couldn't understand it yesterday. Fifteen minutes later, he was satisfied that he understood the chapter well and he moved on to transfiguration.

An hour later, Severus entered the room without knocking with a plate of food, and it wasn't until then that Harry realized he hadn't eaten.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked as if he had done something horribly wrong as he set the plate down on the desk.

"Transfiguration . . ." Harry answered slowly, closing his book.

"I believe I told you to take the day off," he replied.

"I did! I just woke up a little over an hour ago."

"I meant no studying. If last night was any indication, you have been overworking yourself. You need to slow down. You only have three relatively simple topics to cover in potions before July 14th and there is no need for you to review much for defense."

"The exams . . ."

"Harry, I am sure that even if you barely study in the next two weeks, you would still do extremely well on your NEWTs. And you will have about a month after your NEWTs to revise for the WPAM. You have nothing to worry about."

"What if I _do_, though? What if I'm not as good as you think I am?" Harry blurted out.

"Have you been cheating on anything, Harry? Have you even been working _with_ anyone on anything?" Severus asked, wondering how this conversation was even taking place. He had always thought Harry a little bit lazy when it came to grades. Smart – he'd have to be to understand all the material he had learned in the past two years – but never obsessive about doing well. If he _had_ been obsessing, it started recently . . . no.

Severus thought back. That summer they both learned the truth . . . _that_ could have been when it started. He had gone through so many of the books in the library, getting so much information about the topics he must have thought important. At the time, Severus just assumed the boy was bored, but once they learned of the Voices, he had assumed, up until just now, that Harry had become so diligent with studying because of their influence. Now, though, it suddenly hit him that there might be even more to it.

Maybe Harry was trying his best to please him.

"No . . ." Harry responded slowly, bringing Severus out of his thoughts.

"Then all you learned, Harry, is because you are perfectly capable of learning it. You know it, and you seem to know it well. Your other professors have claimed you are doing extremely well in their classes –."

"I'm not the top, though," Harry interrupted, and Severus found he couldn't go on. Harry was acting as if it were some sort of competition.

"You don't _have_ to be the best at everything, Harry. In fact, you don't _have_ to be the best at anything. Why do you think you do?" Severus' voice was beginning to sound desperate and for the briefest moment, he felt as if he were in a dream; one where you were trying to convince someone something was going to happen, but they outright refuse to believe you.

"I don't know," Harry finally mumbled. "I just . . . for awhile now, I just needed to _know_ it all. There were these dreams where I'm in this library and I'll I'm doing is studying . . . but I don't think they're just dreams."

"How long have you been having these dreams?" Severus asked, glad he was getting somewhat of a confession from his son.

"Couple years," Harry shrugged. "Not recently, though. Not since . . . not since we got rid of them." Harry paused. "We _did_ get rid of them, right?"

"It would seem so."

"I still want to know what they are," Harry said contemplatively, and Severus grabbed his arm, causing Harry to look at his father with wide eyes.

"You will _not_ look into it. It is too dangerous."

"I know!" he replied defensively. "I won't, but I was just curious."

Severus dragged a chair over to the desk and sat down next to Harry silently.

"The headmaster believes they are some sort of energy . . . more of an essence of a god or goddess than any material being. That dungeon has been forbidden for an unknown amount of time – there is simply no record of it. They might be, perhaps, a product of an experiment gone wrong which grew personalities of their own after seeing so many wizards for so long."

"Who have taken to controlling us," Harry grumbled, and Severus nodded.

"From what I have gathered, they don't have any magical power of their own – they seem to use others' abilities for that – but they have some control over an individual person."

"You thought about it," Harry said flatly.

"Yes. It is the most sound guess that either the headmaster or myself could come up with."

"But they have used magic," Harry pointed out. "To put the wards to the forbidden dungeon up and down. And they can make everyone disappear . . ." he continued, remember the time where he couldn't find anyone to tell about the kid in the Forbidden Dungeon.

"I believe it may merely be an upset in time. Similar to . . . a timeturner."

"That's magic!"

"No, that's part of the earth herself, like life."

"I don't understand," Harry said shaking his head.

"That's fine. It's unimportant," Severus answered.

"Unimportant! It's not–."

"It's not a discussion for now. Now, we need to discuss how you are going to better manage your time so you don't nearly die of exhaustion."

"I didn't nearly die," Harry nearly spat, crossing his arms and sitting back defiantly.

"For the next two weeks, only go over old material. We will finish Potions material up afterwards. Your NEWT classes should not be having any new lessons after this week."

"But . . ."

"No. Harry, I've seen what happens to a student who becomes over stressed about exams. They _do_ end up doing worse, even if they know the material perfectly. You need to calm down, get a lot of sleep and take _breaks_."

"But . . ."

"Go find Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley. I am sure they are worried about you."

"But I . . ."

"Now. You should have nothing you absolutely need to do tonight, so do not worry about it. Go have fun that has nothing to do school or quidditch."

"Dad," Harry interrupted, but decided against voicing his thoughts. "Fine. I'll go."

Harry left his room, nearly in a huff and pausing only to put on his trainers. He wasn't _stressed_, he just had a lot to get done. Sure, his dad said he didn't have to be the best, but he wanted to be, for his dad. Didn't he understand that?

_Apparently not_, he grumbled to himself, angry. He felt fine now. He would just make sure he got longer periods of sleep, here and there, to help ease the amount of tiredness.

Hesitantly, he gave the password to the Fat Lady and walked into the Gryffindor common room. He didn't spot Ron nor Hermione in the crowd so he made his way up to the seventh year boys dorm room and was relieved to find Ron, Hermione, and Seamus sitting on Ron's bed playing a game with the wizarding cards. He just stood and watched for a moment before clearing his throat, causing all three to look up at him.

"Hi," he said. "Need a forth player?"

––----

It was a week and a half later and Severus felt he had gotten nowhere with Harry. Although hiding it better, it was obvious to Severus that his son still wasn't sleeping, but he didn't know what to do. It was only four days until NEWTs started, so it felt almost pointless to try to change the young man's dangerous habits. Classes would more or less be over and they could spend the remaining month making sure he knew the material he could be tested on in the WPAM well.

He still wanted to do _something _to get Harry's mind off of school for a little bit, and after some thought, he had an idea. Severus cleared it with the headmaster – not that much clearing was needed, as Harry was technically his apprentice and only a part-time student of Hogwarts – and made his way to Harry's room, knowing he would be there on a Saturday afternoon.

Harry answered the door almost immediately, and even though he looked exhausted, he managed a smile before letting Severus in, but Severus shook his head.

"We're going out, Harry," he said. "I'm assuming you hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast?" Harry nodded. "Good. Put on muggle clothes and your shoes and meet me in my quarters. We will be taking the floo to the Leaky Cauldron and then walking to a restaurant."

"Okay," Harry said slowly.

––--

Twenty minutes later, Harry entered his father's quarters and was practically shoved through the floo. Once they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, they walked at a bit slower pace out into muggle London.

"Hungry for anything specific?" Severus asked, and Harry shook his head. Severus nodded in response, and they walked in silence until they reached a place that simply had the word _Café_ above the door. Severus lead Harry in and they sat down near the back of the café.

Harry looked over the sandwiches, not really sure of what he wanted. It really wasn't food he was used to eating. He looked up at his dad, who was watching him instead of looking at the menu.

"Aren't you hungry?" Harry asked.

"I know what I want," Severus answered. "Anything look good to you?"

"I don't know."

"Try the sausage and spinach sandwich," Severus said. "I think you'll like it."

"Spinach?" Harry asked hesitantly, and Severus gave a curt nod. Harry shrugged. Soon after, the waitress came and took their orders and they were left staring at each other.

"Have you been getting enough sleep?" Severus asked, and Harry gave another shrug.

"More than I was before," he answered honestly, sort of suspicious. He honestly didn't know why Severus took him out to eat.

"Good," Severus replied, and Harry relaxed a bit. Okay, Severus wasn't going to start scolding him. "Have you gotten anywhere with the parseltongue?"

Harry nearly dropped the forth that he was playing with and he felt himself heating up. He had completely forgotten about the written parseltongue!

"Er . . . no. Haven't had much time."

"Perhaps after your WPAM we can look at that again. Perhaps even get something published, if we get enough information."

"And what?" Harry teased. "Start teaching a class on 'How to Speak Parseltongue'? Can you imagine how that would turn out?"

"There would be less people who think all parselmouths are dark," Severus responded, trying to get Harry to see that he _wasn't_ joking.

"Yeah, that's true," he said, thinking about it. "Still, who would buy a book on parseltongue."

"A lot of people, I'm sure," Severus responded as their food came.

–––

Harry had to admit that he was much more relaxed when he left the café than when he entered it. As soon as he had gotten back to Hogwarts, at about six in the evening, that feeling of dread overcame him and he couldn't decide what he wanted to do, exactly. After speaking for so long with his father about things that really didn't matter much, Harry wanted to do something with Ron and Hermione, but he also wanted to get the rest of those charms perfected. They weren't charms that were directly taught in class, but were off a list that Flitwick suggested they read up on. They were harder charms and most likely wouldn't be done in the practical, but they could very well be tested on during the written portion.

Having a slight feeling as if his head was being torn apart at the eyes, Harry decided on neither and burrowed his way into his bed, letting the comfortable, warm feeling of being held bring him to sleep.

–--–-

_He noticed he was cold. Everywhere was cold, actually. And empty-feeling. He wandered around the library that he felt he should be different. It looked right, mostly. He wandered down one of the rows, brushing his hand along one of the shelves of white-bounded books. _

_The lack of feeling, he realized. That's what was missing; feeling. He felt he was usually angry, here. Busy. Now, it was cold and he almost felt bored . . . but he couldn't quite grasp onto that feeling._

_And he found he didn't care. He continued to walk around, in and out of book shelves. It briefly crossed his mind that he could look for an exit, but that idea held no interest, either._

_Walking past his table, he noticed the lack of a chair, which struck him stranger than anything, yet. It greatly disturbed him, a feeling that woken his other senses. He could feel the spirits them running through his body, through his veins and he began to feel uncomfortably warm in the freezing library._

_They knew he was no longer theirs._

_––---_


	24. 2: Graduation

**Thanks to **eaglesfreak17, Musical Jelmo, karlii, munchnzoey, B. E. Skrewt, excessivelyperky, JWOHPfan, fattoad, honore, Beth5572, acacia59601, blue artemis and Utena-Puchiko-nyu **for the reviews and to all of you who are sticking with me through my tedious updating schedule. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**Enjoy! Oh, and if you haven't read the updated first two chapters of It's Mutual 1, go read them.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 24 - Graduation**

"Harry! Hurry up!" he heard Hermione yell from outside the doorway, her voice quiet because she was walking away.

"I am!" he yelled back and continued to look for his shoes. He _knew_ they were in his room somewhere. Severus had just brought them up a couple of hours ago. Honestly, black shoes should not be so hard to find in his room, which was still mostly filled with his Gryffindor things.

Throwing open the wardrobe with a little more force than necessary, he found his shoes on the bottom and he grabbed them. Leaving the room, he ran to catch up with Ron and Hermione, still in socked feet. When he did catch up with them, Ron laughed as he tried to put on the shoes while walking. A task that his dress robes made all that more difficult.

"Harry," Hermione said. "Try _stopping_ before putting on the shoes. It might help."

"Hermione," Harry said, now not wanting to stop.

"So, you ready?" Ron asked.

"I have to meet with Elise in a few minutes," he grumbled. "She wants to go through the speech one more time to make sure we know it."

"Well, that's good, Harry. You don't want to mess up," Hermione said, wrapping her arm around Ron's.

"I don't really want to do the speech at all, Hermione."

"Oh, relax," she answered back as they entered the Entrance Hall. "Go find her before she thinks you aren't coming."

"Right," Harry said before he took the back path to the room behind the Great Hall.

"Harry," Elise greeted. She was sitting down at one of the side tables in her dress robes, a roll of parchment in her hands.

"Hi, Elise. You didn't make any changes, did you?" he asked hesitantly, spotting the inkwell and quill setting on the table next to her.

"No," she answered. "What took you so long?"

"Couldn't find my shoes," he said, and she rolled her eyes. "Do we really need to practice again."

"Not if you really don't want to," Elise said, throwing the roll down, standing up, and smoothing her robes. "We have to go now, anyway. Professor McGonagall said to be there at ten thirty.

They walked silently out of the room and out through the main Hogwarts doors. Harry could hear voices and saw the platform and chairs set up in the middle of the grounds on the left side of the path. Elise, obviously no longer angry with him for not wanting to practice the speech, turned to him and smiled before running off to the small tent area set up behind the platform.

Harry, although excited, wasn't looking forward to being the center of attention again _and_ he had the potions mastery exam in three weeks. Material which he'd only briefly looked at since his dad had been regulating his studying. He honestly didn't think his NEWTs went well enough. Not good enough for all the extra tutoring Severus had given him for the last year and a half, anyway. And he _had_ to pass the WPAM.

When he entered the tent, Dumbledore and most of the professors were talking with Elise. When Severus saw him – he was standing on the outside of the group – his father walked toward him.

"Harry?" Severus asked. "Took you a little longer than it should to get here."

"Hi, dad," he replied, shrugging. Severus gave him an encouraging smile, knowing partly what was bothering his son.

Smiling back at his father, Harry turned his attention to the talking professors, but not really listening. They were reviewing the order for the day, which he already knew and didn't want to go through. Harry knew he should be excited, but quite honestly, he wanted to go to bed. Or study. Well, he didn't really want to study, but now that he was done with Hogwarts, he could study freely for his upcoming exams. And if he did well on them, he could not worry about it anymore and finally get on with just his auror apprenticeship.

Harry closed and rubbed his eyes. More training, more studying, more _work_. He wondered – not for the first time – why he kept this up. He didn't really enjoy it. Sure, he liked learning about magic and spending time with his father . . . and impressing his father . . . but . . . he just sort of . . . wanted out for awhile. He wanted to be an auror, more than anything, but it took years. On average, five years for training.

"Harry."

He looked up. Somehow, he dazed out long enough and everyone but Severus had left. Now, Severus was standing in front of him, looking down with dark, worried eyes. Harry looked down immediately, avoiding his father's glance.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Fine. Just tired," he answered.

"Not enough sleep last night?" Severus asked. "You weren't up all night studying, were you? You have weeks before the exam."

"It's still not enough time," Harry countered, but then sighed. "No, I wasn't up all night studying," he replied truthfully. He wasn't studying, not really. Not wanting to go to sleep because he was feeling on edge, he wrote down as much as he possibly could of potions. Nearly filled one of his muggle notebooks, he wrote so much, and it felt good at the time . . . like he had somehow gotten rid of the knowledge and he could now float away.

"Harry, are you sure you are feeling alright?"

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"Well, then, you should go. The speech might be started without you."

"Which just wouldn't be good, would it?" Harry muttered and followed his dad out of the tent. Elise had already taken her place on stage, and appeared to be looking for him. Quickening his pace, he hopped onto the stage and stood next to Elise in front of the voice magnifier. Or, at least, that's what Harry thought it was. It looked nothing like a microphone; in fact, it was nothing more than a blue box hovering in the air about mouth height. Harry looked at it curiously as Elise started.

"It's been a strange seven years," Elise said with a huge smile, looking over the group of newly-graduated 7th years. "It's hard to believe we're finally leaving here, isn't it? Splitting up and moving on to live our lives. No longer to be separated by houses but by the confines of a working life. For most of us, that might mean moving on and making new friends . . ."

––––––-

Three hours later, it was all over. The speech, the ceremony, the party . . . and Harry had to admit that it hadn't been that bad. Afterwards, Hermione's parents were taking her and Ron out for dinner, but Harry declined. He didn't feel up for it, and from the look on Severus' face when Hermione's father offered, neither did he.

Wanting to get away for a bit, Harry said goodbye to his dormmates and other friends before he took his time walking to the owlry. The path was quiet because everyone was preparing for the end of the school year so he managed to make the trip without anyone congratulating him or asking him a question.

"Hey, Hedwig," he said when Hedwig came down from her perch to greet him. "Don't have anything for you today." Instead of nipping, Hedwig landed on his shoulder and stayed there as he walked to the window and sat down on the stone ledge to think. It wasn't often she did that, but it was always comforting when she did.

Harry didn't know whether or not he wanted to go home to finish working on Potions or to stay at Hogwarts. Severus was leaving it up to him, but Harry had a feeling that his father wanted to stay at Hogwarts for a few weeks. He was talking before about getting caught up with work he needed to do, and he probably needed to be at Hogwarts do to so, but he missed the house. True, he had only known about it for about a year, but it would be nice to study away from Hogwarts.

Looking out at the grounds below – and hoping that none of the owls decided to poop on him – Harry decided not to think about it for awhile and watched the skies.

––-----–--

"Harry," he heard, and he put out his arm to push away the source of the sound. He felt someone grab his arm and Harry opened eyes to see his father staring back at him. "Harry, you're lucky that it's impossible to fall from these windows." Harry gave him a small smile before allowing Severus to help him up. "How does it feel to no longer be a student of Hogwarts?"

Harry gave Severus a look before shaking his head.

"Since when do you talk like that?" Harry asked, then shrugged. "No different."

"Still tired?" Severus asked, concerned.

"A little." Harry looked out the window. The sun wasn't that far above the horizon. "I think I was asleep for awhile."

"Quite possibly; I was looking for you for awhile. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, eyeing his father. He was asking a lot of questions. He became even more suspicious when the man just nodded and walked out of the owlry. Curious, he hurried to catch up. After a few minutes of walking side by side in silence, Severus spoke up.

"Dress in comfortable clothes and meet me in our classroom when you are ready," he said, then stopped and turned to face his son. Harry followed suit, a sinking feeling in his stomach; back to Potions already, apparently. He wasn't going to complain, though. He had to do perfect on his exam. "Are you sure you are alright?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, trying to sound happy. "I'm good. Officially an adult now, you know."

"Yes, I know," his dad looked at him, an unreadable look in his eyes. "Hurry, now, we have much to do today."

Harry nodded shakily before turning away from his father and heading toward his room. Comfortable clothes; _Severus must be expecting a long night of work_, he thought. _Can't be brewing, though. He would have told me to wear robes._

- - - - - - - - - –

Severus watched his son go, nervous. Surprises weren't his expertise so he had gone to Albus for help. The idea felt good when he first planned it, but now he wasn't so sure. The general idea was that Harry was now an adult, but as he never had a chance to have a 'full childhood life' – as Albus put it – Severus had decided this was the perfect time to do something fun.

Preferring to stay in the muggle world, Severus researched several options and decided that a week trip to the States would be possible. And quite possibly safer than anywhere in Britain, with the Dark Lord around.

The reason for meeting in their classroom was for a diversion. Again, another idea that felt good at the time, but the expression on his son's face might have suggested it wasn't such a good plan; that perhaps it would have been best to tell Harry outright what the plan was. _Too late now_, he thought.

It was about fifteen minutes later that Harry arrived, dressed in black muggle slacks and a light green, cotton long sleeve tee. Similar to what the boy was wearing to bed, lately. Glad the boy decided on shoes (which sometimes, he opted to study without), Severus nodded. He had already packed his son's belongings and study materials (with exams so close, forgetting his books entirely would not be a good idea, especially since there were a few topics left to cover), so he motioned for Harry to follow him.

Half an hour, two floo trips and a cab ride later, they arrived at the airport, and Severus could tell that Harry was extremely confused.

"We will come back by portkey at the end of the trip," Severus vaguely began to explain, "but this will do for now."

"Trip?" Harry asked. "To where?"

"You will learn soon enough," Severus responded and Harry looked at him, confusion, annoyance, and yearning all showing on his face.

"Why are we going on a trip?" Harry asked, sounding unsure.

"You have just graduated," he explained, as if it were obvious. And to most, Severus realized sadly, it probably was obvious. "It's a special occasion."

"Oh."

They stayed in silence while Harry followed Severus to a corner of the airport to unshrink their luggage. It wasn't until Severus had given Harry his carry on bag that he saw the look on his son's face.

"What's wrong?" Severus asked.

"What about the WPAMs?" he asked, sounding horribly worried. "They're in two weeks . . ."

"I have brought along materials to study over the next week. Any practical work can be easily worked on after we return."

"Are you sure?"

Harry sounded so unsure that Severus reached for his chin and made his son look into his eyes.

"Harry, you already know enough to pass the exams. I'm sure you'll do fine." Harry gave Severus an unbelieving smile and Severus felt bad. _Perhaps this wasn't such a good plan_, he thought to himself sullenly. He realized that his son's breathing was slightly ragged and heavy. "Harry? Do you wish to go back to Hogwarts?"

"No!" he said suddenly before he could control himself. "No, I . . . wanted to get away from Hogwarts. It's just . . . the exams."

"You'll do fine, Harry," Severus said with confidence and Harry shook his head.

---------

Harry looked away from Severus, a jittery feeling in his stomach. Trying to put anything Potion-wise out of his head, he followed his dad through the airport and finally ended up in line with his one bag, about to board the plane.

The plane ride was interesting, to say the least. Nothing like riding a broom, although he expected that. There was nothing safe about riding a broom at top speed high above the ground, but being able to see the ground from even higher felt almost comforting – and exhilarating in its own way.

After what felt like an eternity, even with a few naps and long conversations with Severus, the plane landed roughly and another cab ride through heavy traffic later, they arrived at a huge hotel.

It had to have been at least fifteen floors. When they were let in by a doorman and he saw the inside, Harry wondered how much Severus actually paid for this. He wasn't even sure his father could afford something like this. He was a _professor_.

"Dad?" Harry asked, and Severus turned to give him a smile. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Checking in?" a guy behind the desk asked and Severus gave a nod. "Name?"

"Severus Snape," he said. After a few moments, the man behind the desk moved and handed them a few papers and two cards.

"Room 9045. Jake will take your luggage and show you the way," the man said and Severus handed one of the keys to Harry. They watched as the man put their luggage on a cart and beckoned them to follow. Harry kept his bag he had on the plane with in, unwilling to let the . . . bellhop? . . . take it. He noticed Severus did the same.

After a smooth elevator ride, they followed the man out of the elevator into a large open dome room and then into one of the corridors leading from it, and finally, they stopped at a door. The man opened it and put their luggage in before allowing them to walk into. Harry didn't bothering paying attention as his father tipped the man and closed the door. Instead, he looked around.

The room was huge and there were two doors leading away to the left and right of the room. There was a kitchen in the corner to the right, a telly and chairs to the left and a pool of some sort – Harry guessed it was a whirlpool – next to the kitchen. He barely realized that Severus was talking as he looked into the bathroom and bypassed it in favor of looking in the bedroom.

In the room, Harry immediately plopped down on a bed and looked around it. It wasn't nearly as big as the main room, but it fit the two beds, a wardrobe and a dresser with room to spare. Harry watched as Severus entered, went to the window and opened the curtains a bit.

"Dad?" Harry asked, laying back down all the way. "This must have been expensive."

"No more than you deserve, especially for how hard you worked for the past two years." Severus walked over to him and sat on the bed. "Are you tired?"

"Not much, no," Harry responded with a stretch.

"Then we will go." Severus stood up.

"Go where?"

"A place that is a bit more . . . _advanced_ than a place my father would bring me before I went to Hogwarts."

"You're bring me somewhere for a kid?"

Severus looked at Harry with annoyance. "It should be . . . interesting, to say the least. It looks to have things that you have talked about before."

"Like?"

"I believe they have a roller coaster, bumper cars, go carts, a . . . climbing wall," Severus listed reluctantly. Harry's eyes lit up, though, and Severus knew he made the right decision.

"Go carts? Those small cars you race?"

"I wouldn't know," Severus stated flatly.

"You would go on that sort of stuff?"

"I suppose I would have to," Severus said with playful reluctance as he passed the bed to pull his son off of it. He didn't get far, though, because as soon as he was within arms length of Harry, the boy sat up quickly and wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. His first reaction was a feeling that he was being hugged by a child and he was slightly uncomfortable, but after a few seconds, he wrapped his own arms around the boy.

"Thanks, Dad," Harry said, the boy's ear pressed up against his chest. Severus felt and hear the vibrations, a feeling that warmed him and made him reluctant to let go. He did, though, after a few minutes because he felt his son move to get away. He expected to see Harry blushing – the boy got easily embarrassed in situations like these, as he learned – but Harry was looking right up at him, smiling.

It was the best thing he had ever seen.


	25. 3: Law and Potions

**Thanks to Mommy2, Ginnylove9990, mrs severus snape, Alice Cullen1227, Nice Huntress, soxloveable93, nazgurl, Emnm407, taiyuan, JWOHPfan, Hermione Jean Potter, excessivelyperky, eaglesfreak17, Musical Jelmo, KimSpiritTalks, blue artemis, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, Crazy-Physco, fattoad, acacia59601, Beth5572, and karlii for the reviews and to all of you who are sticking with me through my tedious updating schedule. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**Enjoy! Oh, and if you haven't read the updated first two chapters of It's Mutual 1, go read them.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**It's Mutual 3 . . . **

**Chapter 1 - Law and Potions**

"Go to bed, Harry," Severus said sternly, and the young man looked up at the clock.

"It's only seven," he answered before going back to writing up the main compositions of the magical properties of dragon scales and phoenix tears. Severus went over and first took the quill from his writing hand and then the paper. "Bed. Now. You know everything."

"But . . ."

"You won't be able to take the exam tomorrow if you are sleeping," Severus pointed out. "Now go." The vacation week went well, but as soon as they arrived back home, Harry had done nothing but study constantly – eating only when Severus pushed food in front of his face. He had tried to get the boy to take a break, but his efforts never lasted more than a couple of hours. He realized it was better to just let him go for a week and let him crash afterwards.

He watched as Harry slowly got up and plopped face down on his bed.

"I'm going to do horribly," his son muttered into the pillow and Severus shook his head as he walked over to the bed and sat down.

"You'll do well," Severus said, putting a hand on the back of his head and ran his fingers through the shoulder length black hair. "Would you like a potion to help you sleep?" Harry didn't say anything for a few moments, but then he turned his head to the side to face his father and gave a small nod.

"That might be good," he answered, and Severus stood.

"I will be right back, then." Although he didn't rush, he didn't take his time as he grabbed a Dream Sleep Drought from his laboratory and made his way back to his son's room. Harry was as he left him, face down on his bed and still in his day clothes.

"Are you not going to put on your pajamas?"

"No," Harry said, sounding somewhat defeated. "I'm comfortable enough." _Alright, then_, Severus thought as he walked over to the bed and he was slightly grateful when Harry sat up so he could take the potion without any coercion. Harry didn't take reach for the potion when Severus held it out, though. Instead, he sat on the bed, looking at his lap with a look of such desolation that Severus couldn't help but take his son's hands into his own.

"Harry?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to do horribly," he said again, still not looking up. "I keep feeling that I'm going to get there and I won't remember anything and then you'll . . ." he dropped off, and Severus couldn't quite put a finger on how he felt. _What does Harry think I'll do_? he asked himself. Part of him felt so good to know that Harry would put himself through what he was to get his approval, but it also hurt. Severus had told the boy several times that he didn't have to prove himself for Severus to care about him, and if he was still keeping this up . . . that probably meant he didn't believe him.

"Harry?" Releasing one hand from his son's, he raised it to Harry's chin and gently forced the young man to look at him. "You don't have to take the exam tomorrow. You don't ever have to if you don't want to."

"But then . . . you'll . . . I don't . . ." Harry couldn't seem to get out what he was trying to say. Quite honestly, he couldn't remember him ever being this incoherent.

"Harry," he said again, forceful this time. "Tell me what's wrong." Harry closed his eyes and moved his head so Severus was no longer holding his chin. After a minute, he sighed and opened his eyes.

"I want to take it," he finally said. "I worked so hard for it, but I'm afraid I'll mess up and embarrass you . . . and me, and then you'll be angry . . ."

"Harry," Severus sighed. "I won't be angry if you don't pass. You're only seventeen. I probably pushed you too hard and maybe it is too early for you to take the exam, but I know you know the material very well. Very, very well, in fact. And if you don't do well on the exam, you may take it again. It is different each time and there is no limit on the amount of times you are allowed to retake it."

"Everyone there's going to be a lot older than me, aren't they?" Harry asked.

"Yes. When I took the exam, everyone was older than I was."

If possible, Harry slumped even further. "They're probably going to know much more than me, aren't they? They've had so much time to work on it . . ."

"Actually, most who take the exam do not pass. I have substituted in as a grader a few times. I know you know more than enough to pass with the minimum level of competence."

"Alright, but how could I learn all the material I needed to know in less than two years when it takes everyone else so many more years to learn it?"

"Several reasons, probably," Severus answered after thinking for a moment. "Most do not study at the rate you did. Potions is what you mostly concentrated on, especially during the last year. Others have jobs to worry about or are working under a Potions Master who would require work to be done for them in payment for lessons. And . . . it is possible that the Voices had you work at a fast pace for their own purposes."

"Oh . . ." Harry said, not sounding any more convinced than he was before, but at least he sounded less depressed. Not knowing what else to do and just wanting Harry to _feel better_, he reached over and pulled his son close to him and held him tight. He felt him go from tense because of the sudden action to relaxed. They stayed like that for a few moments until Harry began to move. Severus let go and sat further on the bed. To his surprise, Harry sat much closer to him and wrapped his arms around his body without hesitation. Severus returned the hug, resting his chin on the young man's head. It briefly crossed his mind as to how short Harry still was.

Moving his head, he gently kissed his son's temple then moved his mouth to whisper in his ear. "Remember that I will love you no matter what," he told the boy. "I will always be here for you."

The feeling that rushed through him – some of which felt like a backlash of magic - was warm and soothing and he realized that he had never kissed his son before, yet it felt so natural, reassuring the boy in that way.

"Thanks, Dad," Harry whispered and Severus gave him one more silent kiss – this one on the top of his head – before letting go and picking up the potion from his lap.

"Do you still wish to take the potion?" he asked.

"Yeah, I should," Harry answered, taking it slowly. Severus stood and moved the covers so Harry could crawl in and he smiled at the seventeen year old.

"Good night, Harry. Sleep well," he said as the boy drank the contents of the vial and pull the covers over himself.

"Night," he answered, falling asleep. Severus stood at watched for a moment before leaving, closing the bedroom door behind him. He was sure Harry would pass the WPAM exam, unless he froze during it, which Harry wasn't known to do. He knew enough that even if he didn't remember something, he could probably deduce it from something else.

He had a feeling that Harry would be doing much with potions after the exam, much to his dismay. He enjoyed working in the lab with the boy, watching him figure things out. Still content despite this thought, Severus went downstairs to the kitchen to continue the book he was reading.

— - - - - - - - - - - -

Harry stumbled coming out of the floo in the Ministry of Magic and after a second of finding his footing, he looked around and made his way to the front desk.

"Name and purpose?" the lady asked.

"Harry Potter-Snape for the WPAM exam," he answered. He sighed as they went through the entire check in procedure before he was sent to level 5. The elevator ride was quiet, but much slower than he remembered, so he looked around at the decor. With that only taking a few seconds, he faced forward again and was about to lean back on the wall when a searing pain traveled through his scar. He reached up to rub it, crouching down to the floor for balance. It was about a minute before the pain subsided and he managed to stand before the elevator door opened.

It had been awhile since his scar hurt. In fact, he barely thought about Voldemort lately. Severus still went to meetings and Harry still watched for dangers among his yearmates and those students who were younger than him during the year, but Severus said they talk of nothing of importance at the meetings for awhile now and it was if the Hogwarts population had forgotten about the Dark Lord entirely. With his scar hurting . . . all he knew was that this was a _bad_ day for it to start up again.

Walking down the empty corridor, Harry felt his fears from last night coming back to haunt him. He paused outside the door labeled _Examinations: Alchemy, Herbology, Potions_, feeling as if he was going to sick up, but he finally gathered the courage to push down on the door handle and pull the door open. The door was heavy and seemed older than most of the Ministry that he had seen, creaking as it opened. It almost seemed to be telling him that he shouldn't go in, but he ignored the voice inside him telling him to run and he walked up to the tall desk where a bald man with puke color robes looked down at him.

"Waiting for someone, boy?" he asked, not too nicely, and Harry narrowed his eyes at the man, starting as the heavy door behind him closed with a bang.

"No, I'm here for the WPAM . . . I'm Harry Potter-Snape," he answered, more irritated than nervous at this point. His eyes narrowed further as the man's eyes traveled up to his forehead.

"Are ye now?" the man asked before looking at something on his desk and looking back up again, this time at his name tag. "So ye are, so ye are," he said. "A little young to be taken' the exam, now aren't ye?"

"I'm ready for it," Harry answered with confidence and the old man raised an eyebrow at him."

"Really, now? There was an eighteen year old who tried to take the exam, once, ye know. Left cryen' within the first hour, he did. Ye can't be more 'an fifteen . . . you ain't ready."

"I'm seventeen, and I've been studying under my father," Harry replied flatly. "Youngest to earn a masters, so far."

"'An' ye think you'll be the new youngest, eh? I doubt that," the man said before handing him a roll of parchment. "Fill that out. Have it done before 7:30."

"Right," Harry said, taking the roll and not bothering to be polite. He decided right there that he'd show them . . . he was going to be the youngest Potions Master, and he was going to do his absolute best to score very high. He'll prove all those who didn't think he'd do well wrong and he'd make his father proud. He knew that Severus would still care about him if he didn't – and he was beginning to understand that now, too – but it felt good when his dad would give him that look of pride.

Sitting down at one of the tables, away from the four other people filling out similar rolls, he took out his quill and inkwell and unrolled the first part. His name was already filled out for him, but underneath, there was a place for him to sign, so he did. The next question, though, was unexpected.

_Blood Father's bloodline: Pureblood, Halfblood, Muggleborn, unknown_

_Blood Mother's bloodline: Pureblood, Halfblood, Muggleborn, unknown_.

Wondering what that had to do with anything, Harry circled _halfblood_ for Severus and _muggleborn_ for his mother. _Maybe it's just some sort of survey thing, like muggles have race_, he thought before moving on to the next question.

_Potions Master studied under?_ Well, that was as easy one, he thought as he wrote down Severus Snape. The next question asked for how many years he had been studying potions, not including up to NEWTs and Harry eventually wrote down one and a half years . . . he wasn't exactly sure when NEWT study transferred to mastery study, so he had to guess. Even so, he hesitated writing it, hoping that they weren't going to think he cheated or something because he hadn't studied very long.

_Relax_, he told himself. _They have ways to prevent cheating. No one's going to think you cheated!_ The rest of the questions were similar, pertaining to job prospects and the such. Every so often, though, odd questions like, _Did you learn with any muggleborns during your studies?_ popped in, and only then did he wonder if it was because of those new muggleborn laws that kept popping into existence. Most of them were small, but Harry heard everyone because of Hermione, and he wanted to strangle – or perhaps something a little more painful – Minister Drima for pushing through laws like that.

At seven thirty, an elderly woman came and collected all the rolls and the five of them were ushered into a room with six tables spaced out. Harry sat down in the one in the far corner and set down his writing supplies before looking forward. Everyone else was waiting the same as him.

It was then that another pain shot through his scar and he scrunched his eyes closed and willed the pain away. After a few moments it did and then Harry began actively occluding his mind – something he hadn't had to do in a long time. Looking around, he was grateful he took the back seat because no one had noticed what had happened.

It was a few minutes later when someone came in to hand out a thick pile of parchment to everyone and explain the rules: They had four hours to work on the exam, no cheating . . . it felt as if it went on forever, but they were finally allowed to sign their name and begin the exam.

Harry was surprised at the exam. He was expecting them to be all difficult problems similar to the ones Severus gave him as assignments; things like "list the ingredients in the order most suitable for a potion to relieve pain" when there was a list of 20 ingredients, but most were simple ones, like what the result would be if three or four ingredients were combined. After the first two pages, Harry became confident that he knew what he was doing and he was able to push forward with little effort compared to some of the things Severus shoved on him.

It wasn't until page 28 that something really stumped him. It was asking for the order of ingredients needed for a specific potion, but he didn't recognize two of the five ingredients. He stared at it for ten minutes before he became frustrated enough to move on, flustered. The remaining five pages felt as if they took an eternity, but when he thought he correctly answered the rest of the questions, he went back to that hard one.

In the end, he guessed. He didn't even bother thinking through it logically. He wrote down an order and then re-piled the pages neatly before cleaning his quill and closing the inkwell. Looking at the counting down time, he saw he still had an hour left and he nearly groaned. Sick of the thought of looking down at the desk for another hour, Harry reluctantly looked over his exam for any mistakes.

After the four hours were complete, they were given an hour to eat – lunch provided – in a small room that really didn't fit the five of them comfortably. They ate in silence until Harry looked up and saw one of the men – probably about 30 years – staring at him.

"So, you're seventeen, eh?" he asked and Harry nodded. "You must think the boy-who-lived would get special grading privileges, hmm?"

"No," Harry answered.

"Oh, right. Said you've been taught by your _father_. Severus Snape, right?" The man's voice was harsh and Harry wanted nothing more than to leave.

"Yeah, that's right," he answered instead.

"So tell me, what did you think of the written exam, then?" he asked, and Harry ended up shrugging.

"Wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be," he answered.

"Wasn't as hard?" someone else spoke up, a woman with a taunting in her voice. "Wasn't as _hard_ as he thought, he says."

"Probably missed all those little tricks," a third person said, a man this time. "I barely even finished."

"I didn't finish," said the first man. "I had three pages to go when time was called. Tell me, _Potter_, how far did you get?"

"I finished," Harry answered quietly, feeling less confident now.

"I doubt you did well," said the man. "You're too young." After that, the other four talked among themselves, some about the exam and some about other things. Harry just sat there, thinking over the exam and wondering if he really did do as well as he thought he did. Quite honestly, the exam didn't seem that hard, but . . .

By the time the hour was finished, Harry felt as if he was going to lose everything he had just ate. He was slightly more relieve, though, when they were all shown to separate rooms for the practical. As the rules were relayed to him, he began to feel better.

"You will have four hours to brew three potions and to brew a new potion of your making," the grading lady finished as she handed him the booklet he was to work from. "You may begin."

Harry opened the booklet to the first page. _You will choose three of the following, unlabeled potions to brew. Your object is to choose three potions that would work for aiding in the growth of mundane plants._

Harry flipped through the next twenty potions, each only label with a number. After looking over each of the ingredients, he concluded that at least 4 of the potions were for plants and he chose three that had ingredients which symbolized growth of some sort. Calculating, he realized it was a good choice if for nothing else than that they were set up in a way where he could brew all three of them at once. That was something he was happy about, because maybe he'd be able to get out of there earlier.

Grabbing three of the five cauldrons in the room, Harry set each of them up with the needed amount of water and began setting up the ingredients in the order he would need them. Then, he spent the next fifteen minutes doing his best to remember each potion before starting.

It wasn't the first time he had brewed three new potions at once, but it was the first time where he only had one book to work out of. It didn't help that each of the potion directions were several pages apart and it was hard to keep track of them. Still, by the time the final potion was finished, he decided they were good enough not to redo any of them and he moved onto the final task.

His heart still beating quickly from nerves, Harry was having trouble with the last problem. _Using five ingredients, brew a potion that would grow facial hair five centimeters._ Using _five_ ingredients. At that point, he managed to think of one that involved four of the ingredients supplied, but not _five_.

After a few moments, it hit him, though. He would need an ingredient which would stop the growth of hair after five centimeters . . . Harry laughed, earning an odd look from the grader, but then he set to work.

An hour and a half – and three tries – later, he managed to produce to potion he was sure would work. He cleaned up and then announced he was finished.

"Bottle each potion, then, and make sure you mark each one. Leave the booklet and the potions for grading on the desk. Your exam should be finished grading in about an hour. You can wait or you can leave."

"I'll wait," Harry said as he began bottling the potions.

"Then wait in the main room," she said, nearly snapping, and Harry did as he was told.

It was actually only a half an hour until he was handed an envelop and told he was finished. Harry glared at the envelope in his hands as if it was a disease and he shoved it in his pocket before he left, ignoring the smirk of the man at the tall desk.

He flooed home to find Severus sitting in the living room. His father looked up, surprised at his entrance.

"I wasn't expecting you for another couple hours," he admitted. "How was the exam?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged.

"You didn't wait for the results?"

"I did," he answered, pulling the envelope from his robes. "Didn't look at them, yet." Harry dropped the envelope on the small table next to the sofa.

"Are you going to?" Severus asked, sounding worried.

"No. You can, if you want. Don't tell me how bad I did, though."

"I'm sure you did fine," Severus answered, picking up the envelope. Harry sat roughly down on the sofa and picked up the day's Daily Prophet, pointedly ignoring his dad's movements. He skimmed over the first page, finding nothing of interest, and he turned to the second. An article on the bottom of the page caught his attention.

_**Muggleborn Admittance is Limited**_

_A new law was passed yesterday morning which now limits muggleborn entry into a British wizarding school. Decisions are the same for jobs: the family of muggleborns will be researched before a letter of acceptance is sent. If the muggleborn's family history is not considered acceptable, the child will not be accepted._

_This brought up several questions about what would be done with the muggleborn child. Some believe it is cruel to not allow a wizard child into our world, so further decisions are in the process of being made. It has been decided that if the muggleborn child has too much magical power to stay safely in the muggle world, exceptions may be made. The details of this law have not yet been decided on but are expected to be finalized before August 1__st_

- - - - - - - - - - - - – - - -

"That's horrible," Severus heard Harry said and looked up from his son's results to see what the problem was. Harry was holding the Daily Prophet, so he was sure what the boy was talking about. "Have you read this?"

"Yes."

"It's _horrible!_"

"It is," Severus agreed. He didn't want to talk about the injustices muggleborns were receiving lately, though. He knew it was important to his son, but it was quite honestly the last thing on his mind. First and foremost was the Mastery potions results. "Harry, you passed."

"I can't believe they would just refuse . . . what?" Harry asked, obviously confused for a moment about what Severus was talking about. "Wait, you mean I passed the potions mastery?" Severus nodded. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Severus said, handing the results to his son. "You did an excellent job, actually. Higher score than I earned."

"_Really_?" Harry asked, still sounding as if he didn't believe him. He watched as Harry looked at the results with eyes wide. "982 out of 1000 for the written?" There was such an air of disbelief in his voice that Severus had to stand up and sit next to his son.

"And 970 out of 1000 for the practical," Severus pointed out.

"I can't believe it," Harry finally said after several minutes of just staring at the results. "They were . . . the others were talking about how _hard_ it was and they were so much _older_ than me. I thought I must have failed . . ."

"But you didn't, Harry," Severus said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations."

Finally, Harry smiled at looked up at him. "_I can't believe it_," he said with conviction, but then he shook his head. "I'm going to take a nap." Severus smile back as Harry stood up. "I feel like I'm going to pass out."

Shaking his head, Severus examined his son's results once again. He was expecting his son to pass, but the score he received really were almost unbelievable. He felt he couldn't be any more proud of his son than he did at that moment.


	26. 3: Beginning

**Thanks to ****nazgurl, ****karlii, Ginnylove9990, JWOHPfan, Musical Jelmo, LordJingles, BatteredChild, Beth5572, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, blue artemis, She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Sane, acacia59601, fattoad and Mommy2, ****for the reviews and to all of you who are sticking with me through my tedious updating schedule. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 2 - Beginning**

Severus looked up at the clock. It was nearly six in the evening and Harry still hadn't gotten up. Yesterday, he had only taken a short nap before getting up for dinner, but then after a short conversation about how his scar had been hurting, Harry went back to bed and refused to get up this morning. Severus had been checking on him every few hours, but it seemed that his son was just too exhausted to get up.

He could understand that. And in Severus' mind, he had every right to sleep for as long as he wanted right now, but a letter arrived that morning announcing an auror would be coming this evening to discuss the apprenticeship. Which meant he should be up and presentable . . .

Letting go of his resolve to allow Harry to sleep until he was ready to get up, Severus stood to make his way to the boy's bedroom when a knock sounded on the front door. Sneering at how ironic it was for the auror to arrive just then, he changed his direction and made for the door instead.

Opening it, he was surprised to see Shacklebolt standing there and he was relieved . . . the auror would understand why his son was still in bed. It took him a few seconds to remember that very few people would be able to arrive through the front door instead of the floo.

"Professor Snape," Shacklebolt greeted, and Severus stepped aside to let the man in. "How are you today?"

"Very well," Severus answered. Shacklebolt smiled and followed Severus to the living room.

"And how is Harry? Did his exam go well yesterday?"

"His exam did go well, but I'm afraid he is still sleeping," Severus replied, indicating to the auror to sit. "If you wouldn't mind waiting, I'll go wake him."

"Let him sleep for awhile longer, I have another purpose for today's visit," Shacklebolt said and Severus nodded as he sat himself.

"Order?" he asked, and the man gave a small, grim nod.

"There are rumors that You Know Who is planning something, but we haven't been able to isolate anyone who has been able to do more than speculate. Several wizards are assuming the plans are leading toward Harry, that they are plans to kill."

"I'm assuming these are Death Eaters?" Severus asked, and Shacklebolt nodded.

"Yes, ones not in the inner circle. They all give this information rather easily, though, so we ourselves are assuming it is a distraction."

"What is it you wish me to do?"

"For now, just think. There is an Order meeting coming up soon, so try to think of ways to infiltrate or who our best bet to get truthful information from is. Also, brew any potions you might think useful. We could use all the aid we can get. As You Know Who's actions have been quiet and subtle – when we've been able to trace things back to him – for nearly two years, we believe it's something big."

"Yes, I've been kept informed . . . and I believe he has been trying something with Harry, or thinking about him . . . his scar started hurting again."

"I see . . . I'll keep that in mind." They sat in silence, Severus really thinking of nothing in particular, until Severus stood up.

"I'll wake Harry," he said, and the auror answered with yet another nod. Upstairs, he knocked on the partially closed bedroom door. Inside, the curtains were drawn and Harry was lying awake on his bed, covers half strewn on the floor. He was staring at the ceiling and it looked as though he had made an attempt to dress as he had on no shirt, but his jeans and one sock were on. The other sock was in his hand, which was resting on his chest. It was an amusing sight, but Severus wondered why he was getting dressed in the dark in the first place.

"Harry?" Severus asked, and he started at the sudden intrusion. "Auror Shacklebolt is waiting for you downstairs. He is here about your apprenticeship. How are you feeling?"

"Okay," Harry answered, raising his leg to put on his second sock. "I'll be down in a minute, though. I just have to finish getting dressed."

"Alright," Severus said, turning to leave. Before he closed the door, though, he looked over at his shoulder at his son as Harry rolled out of bed and picked up a shirt off the floor before throwing it on haphazardly. "And Harry? Look presentable, please." 

Pausing on his way to the dresser, Harry didn't even bother turning around before he answered with a slightly embarrassed, "Right." Severus watched as he switched his direction to his wardrobe and retrieved a dark blue, better quality casual robe. Shaking his head, Severus left his son to get presentable on his own.

* * *

Harry quickly brushed his teeth and hair and after looking in the bathroom mirror to make sure he looked _presentable_, he slowly made his way toward the stairs. He knew he should be as nervous as he felt, but this was it, really. The next step that proved he was an adult now. Halfway down the stairs, he stopped. He was an adult now, wasn't he? Cautiously, he looked back at his room. Would his dad want him to . . . He shook his head. _I have nothing to worry about,_ he scolded himself and continued down the stairs and entered the sitting room without hesitation.

"Mr. Potter," Shacklebolt said when he entered. He was standing next to the window, leaning against it. He moved closer and they shook hands.

"Hi," Harry answered, but after that, he was clueless. What next?

"How about a seat?" Severus asked as he walked into the room, a tea kettle and cups on a tray in his hand. Relieved, Harry nodded and let Shacklebolt choose his seat before he sat across from him.

"First, I must say congratulations on earning your Masters in potions. You must be very excited."

"Yeah," Harry answered, but without the enthusiasm the auror was probably expecting.

"Of course," Shacklebolt smiled. "But I'm here today to give you information about your apprenticeship. I will be your main mentor throughout your training which will start in a week, on Monday. You will need to buy a number of books before then," he continued and then handed him a list. Harry looked over it, sighing. "We will be meeting from ten to three Monday through Friday for the first year."

Harry raised both his eyebrows in surprise. "Only five hours a day?" he asked. Shacklebolt gave another smile.

"For the first year. After that, schedules will be adjusted according to need. It is tradition in the auror program to go through training slowly. That way, we can be sure the new aurors are truly trained. I realize you're used to learning at a very . . . excelled pace, Harry, but perhaps it's time for you to slow down. There is no hurry. It also gives the apprentices time to get a job and earn money if the need be."

Harry thought about it for a minute, and the longer he stayed silent, the more excited he got.

* * *

Severus watched as his son's face slowly went from confused to thoughtful to pure bliss. And he was surprised. Aside from a couple of weeks in the past year, the young man had been obsessed with school work. He supposed some of it was because of influence from the Voices in addition to wanting to do well because the more he thought about it, the more it felt that . . .

Severus sighed, pushing thoughts like that from his head. Harry was getting what he wanted now, everything else aside.

* * *

"Any questions?" Auror Shacklebolt finally asked and Harry looked up.

"Er . . . is there anyone else that you'll be . . . mentoring, too?" he asked, and the auror nodded.

"I have two other apprentices. Sam and Peter. Sam is a few years older than you and Peter is 22. It is his last year. You'll meet them on Monday."

Harry nodded. "I can't think of anything else. Wait. Do I have to do any reading before?"

"No, not if you don't wish. Assigned readings will be given on your first day. Well, if there is nothing else, then, I should be going," the man said, finishing off his cup of tea and standing up. I can let myself out if you wish."

"No, I can show you out," Severus replied, standing up, too. Harry watched as they left and he looked at the list of books again. There were charms books, defense books, transfiguration books, runes books . . . a total of 20 in all. Harry wondered if these were books for the entire apprenticeship or just for the year. It was a _lot _of books if it was just for the year. Much more than he learned from when he was learning potions. Severus came back into the room a few seconds later and stood in the doorway.

"I took the liberty of contacting a couple of your friends," Severus said. "Assuming you would be awake tonight. They will be arriving at about eight."

"Really? Why?"

"Well," Severus said softly, walking behind the sofa Harry was sitting at and leaned down to talk in his ear. The moment gave Harry a small chill as his father spoke. "You are the youngest ever Potions Master since the Ministry began testing. Now that you've gotten your own personal celebration by being dead to the world aside, you can celebrate with us."

Harry smiled.

At quarter to eight, Harry was in his room again, putting on a casual button up shirt instead of his previous t-shirt. Taking a quick look in the mirror to make sure he looked alright. He took a moment longer than he expected. It was strange how normal it felt to look at himself in the mirror. He went for nearly his entire life with one body and now . . . sometimes, when he actually had the time to think about it, he felt life was the oddest thing ever. Although magic sometimes felt so normal, and then times like this . . . it felt so foreign. Giving himself a smile in the mirror, rushed down stairs to the kitchen, where the man was cooking.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"Just chicken soup," he answered. "Could you mix the salad, please?" Severus asked, indicating the piles of greens and other vegetables on the counter behind him.

"Is this a full meal?" Harry asked, moving to the table and putting the spinach into the bowl and grimacing as he threw in some of the different lettuces on the table. There was just something about lettuce he didn't like. Didn't matter, he could eat around it.

"Yes, it is."

"What else are we going to eat?" Harry asked.

"A variety of things. I made some sandwiches, bought some fruit, made a couple pies for dessert . . . and that dish you liked so much when we were in the states."

"You mean . . . that sweet potato stuff?" Harry asked, pausing in his throwing the small bits of broccoli into the salad bowl and looking up.

"Yes," Severus said and Harry threw in the rest of the vegetables without sorting through what he liked and didn't like. He wanted to smell the sweet potato pie . . .

"Where is it?" Harry asked, moving to the refrigerator and opening it, bending down to see if there was anything unusual in there. Severus came up behind him and pulled him away using the back of his shirt as a handhold.

"Wait until we eat. It won't be long."

Harry was going to argue when he heard the floo flair and he temporarily forgot the food as he rushed to the sitting room to meet his friends.

"Oi, Harry!" Ron said. "Your dad says you have news for us. And to come hungry."

"Yeah, he's made quite a bit of food . . . from what I saw in the refrigerator, more than he told me. He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?

"Let's wait until the others come. Who else _is_ coming?"

"Ginny and Hermione. Ginny's with Hermione right now, they should be here soon. She's been moving into her new flat. I haven't been there yet, but Ginny's been helping her move in."

"She has her own flat?"

"Yeah, crazy, isn't it? Her parents are helping her pay for it until she can find a job, though. I might look for my own place soon. I have this job at a charms shop in Diagon Alley so once I know I can pay for it, I'm going start looking."

"Charms, Ron? When did that come about?"

"All last year, Harry. I was taking that extra Charms course, remember?"

Harry looked at his friend, feeling horrible. Honestly, he _couldn't_ remember. Did he really not pay attention to his friends that much?

"Right, I forgot. I'm sorry, Ron."

"That's alright, Harry. You were rather busy." The floo flaired again and Ginny came stumbling into the room, followed almost immediately by Hermione.

"Harry!" she said, hugging him quickly. He saw Ron give him an irritated look and he shrugged as Hermione pulled away. "So, what's the good news?"

"Well, you know how I've been wanting to be an auror for awhile now . . ." Harry started off slowly as a tease and Hermione slapped him on the shoulder.

"We already know you've been accepted into the auror program, Harry. What is the _real_ news?"

"I took the WPAM yesterday and . . . I passed," he said with as much seriousness as he could muster. "According to Dad, I'm the youngest since they started testing to have passed." It took a few moments, but all at the same time Ron, Hermione and Ginny came running at him, enveloping him in a huge hug.

"Oh_, Harry_, that's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you going to do now?"

"Well, I start my auror apprenticeship next Monday."

"But with potions? Aren't you going to do anything with that?" Ginny asked before Hermione could.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. What are you planning on doing, Hermione? Ron already told me his plans." Hermione sighed.

"I don't know. I was hoping for something in transfiguration, but with all those new muggleborn laws . . . no one will even look at my applications! I haven't been able to find a job. I've been thinking that I might go to a muggle university. Get a degree so if this whole mess doesn't clear up I will actually be able to get a job!"

"Have you talked to the headmaster?" Severus asked from the doorway of the room. Hermione looked past Harry.

"No," she said slowly. "I didn't think of that. Would he help?"

"Could give you work with the Order. Or find a job for you that would be beneficial for the Order." Hermione nodded slowly, seeming to think about it. "But we can discuss that later. Dinner is about finished, if you three could start setting the table . . ."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said leaving for the kitchen, and Harry saw Ron give a motion that suggested he was inwardly groaning. Harry shook his head with a smile and followed his father and Hermione. In the kitchen, Harry showed Hermione were the silverware was while Harry got the plates and Ron put the finished food on the table. It _was_ a lot for three people, but it made Harry excited. The last thing on the table was the sweet potato pie and he eyed it closely as Hermione started with the questions.

"What sort of work will you be doing for your apprenticeship, Harry?" she asked and he began to scope large spoonfuls of the casserole onto his plate unabashedly.

"Er . . . the general stuff, like Transfiguration and Charms and Runes . . . and Defense stuff. I'm not sure, exactly, because I haven't gotten the books yet. It's a lot of books," he said with a sort of growl. "What's your flat like?"

"Oh, it's small, but I really like it. It's just enough room for all of my things. Well, most of my things. I still have a few things I need to sort through at my parents from when I was younger. Things I need to decided whether or not I want to keep."

Harry nodded with a smile, glancing at his father out of the corner of his eye. The man seemed satisfied to be just listening to them chatter. Harry wondered what he thought about moving about . . . he didn't expect him to be looking for his own place, right? Try as he could, Harry couldn't remember them ever talking about it. Perhaps they did. Maybe with Severus saying something like he was always welcome? But that could mean visiting, too . . . quite honestly, he was afraid to bring it up.

"It's not _that_ small," Ginny spoke up quietly. "There's three rooms, although one's really too small to call a room. Hermione made it into her library. She has a _lot_ of room for more books, now that she doesn't have to keep confined to her section of the dorm."

"I still have a few books at home, too. Most of them are children books, though; things like fairy tales."

"What's the other room for?" Ron asked and Hermione shrugged.

"Not sure. I might make it into a guest room or something. It's really too small to make into anything else but that or storage and using it as storage seems a waste."

"A study might be useful for you," Severus said, cutting into the conversation with ease. "Especially if you are thinking of going back to school. If the room is big enough to hold a bed comfortably, a desk, chair and lamp will be no problem."

"Hmm," Hermione hummed through her full mouth. "That's an idea. The room's big enough to hold a desk and a couch. Maybe I can save up money for one of those hide a way beds. You know, the ones that fold into a couch?"

"They have some automatic transfiguration like that?" Ron asked, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's muggle, Ron," Harry answered. "It just folds into the couch."

"Oh," he answered and continued eating. He stopped after a few bites and looked up. "My mum says an Order meeting is coming up if we want to join. I think I will. Fred and George joined not too long ago. That would be a good time to talk to Dumbledore, Hermione," Ron said. "What about you, Harry?" Ron and Hermione both looked at him expectantly. Did he never tell them? Not knowing what to say and expecting his friends to be mad, he looked at his father. Severus understood the plea.

"Harry had been helping the Order keep a watch on the students at Hogwarts during the school year. He is already a member."

"Wait, so you've been going to Order meetings before we graduated?" Ron asked.

"Well, not really. I give the information to Dad and he gives me the information I need to know . . . I've only really been to one meeting before."

"I think that's great, Harry," Ginny said. "_Someone_ needed to see what was happening with the students and who else better than Head Boy? And you really did help a lot of people this year."

"Yeah, she's right, Harry."

"Yeah," grumbled Ron. "I just wish you would'a told us about it."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "I forgot. Just like I forgot _a lot_ this year."

"That's alright, Harry, really. You've been through a lot. At least you didn't have to worry about Voldemort like other years," Hermione said, giving Ron a look. Ron shrugged.

"Yeah, it's alright. You're going to the meeting then, right?"

"I don't know. I didn't even know there was going to be a meeting. When is it?"

"The date is undetermined, the last I heard," Severus said. "Soon." They all finished eating in silence after that, it being decidedly finished when Harry pushed his plate away and groaned.

"I'm _full_," he said, slumping down in his chair. A few moments later, though, he sat up. "I want to go flying. Do we have enough brooms for everyone?" Harry wondered aloud.

"There is enough for the four of you," Severus said, standing up and casting a charm that packed away all the leftover food. "Which is fine with me. I have work I would like to finish before I go to bed. I'm assuming you can show your friends to the floo when you are finished for the night?" he directed toward Harry, who nodded.

"Night, dad," he replied, which Severus responded with a quiet, "good night." Too excited at the prospect of flying for fun instead of a quidditch game or practice, Harry lead the way to the basement to the quidditch pitch he was given for his 17th birthday. They floo circles around each other for about an hour before Ginny said she should be getting home. Hermione claimed she was tired, but as Ron wanted to stay, he told Ginny to tell his mother he was staying the night after a short discussion with Harry. It had been awhile since they really talked, and Harry was sure his dad wouldn't mind.

In his room, Harry slowly transfigured a bed from an extra blanket and they quietly made the bed together. Tossing a pillow at the head of the bed, Ron plopped belly down onto it and Harry slowly got onto his bed.

"So, how is it going with you and Hermione?" Harry asked, and Ron smiled.

"Good," Ron answered, but he didn't say anything else. Harry wasn't surprised. Ron really wasn't a big talker.

"I hope she's able to find a job. These laws are horrible. I just wish there was something we could do to stop them," Harry said, laying down.

"Yeah. What about Drima, though. Do you think he's for Voldemort?"

"I don't think so. Lex and Raven don't seem for him. But they also don't seem to be involved much with what the Minister is doing."

"You've talked to them recently?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry answered. "Professor Joa tried to ask me to tutor her during seventh year, though. For Potions. I was too busy."

"Why would Joa want you to tutor her?"

"She's her aunt."

"Weird," Ron answered, and Harry nodded. "So, you have your eye on any girl?"

"No, haven't had much time to look, you know," Harry responded, throwing a pillow at his friend."

"Yeah, with _Potions_. Still, that's done and you won't be so busy with your apprenticeship as that, so . . ."

"Trying to get me hooked up?" Harry asked and Ron laughed.

"No," he replied. "Let's go toss a quaffle around."

* * *

The next morning, Ron stayed for breakfast – something Severus didn't seem surprised about – before he left through the floo. In the living room, Harry turned around to find his father in the doorway, arms crossed and staring at him.

"Dad, is everything alright?" Harry asked, and Severus nodded.

"There's an Order meeting in two days. Yesterday, Auror Shacklebolt told me that they believe the Dark Lord is planning something big. We need to be prepared, so I'm going to be in the lab all day brewing. I was wondering if you would like to help me. We could get twice as many finished that way."

"Sure. What potions?"

"Mostly general things. Pain relievers, sleeping potions, blood replenishers . . . It has been quite a while since I've stocked the supplies at headquarters."

"That's easy," Harry said, not sounding too pleased. "You think something big's going to happen? Soon?"

"The Dark Lord seems to have been planning something, we're not sure what it is. It doesn't hurt to be prepared."

"No, it doesn't. I'll get robes on," Harry nodded. "This has to do with my scar hurting?"

"Not that we know of," Severus answered slowly. "It has probably been building up all year." Although Harry took a step toward the door so he could get ready, he stopped, he head looking down. "You don't have to help if you don't want to," Severus told him.

"It's not that. I want to help. I don't have much to do, anyway. It's just . . . you know, Hermione's moved out of her parents house and . . . Ron's planning on moving out soon . . ."

* * *

Severus looked at his son, the young man's head looking down at the floor, and he felt his heart give irregular beats. It was something he wasn't expecting this soon. In fact, he was hoping that the boy would wait for a few years before even thinking about it. He realized he should have seen it coming with how conversation went with his friends the night before.

"You want to move out," Severus said, unable to conjure the energy to put any emotion in his voice. He watched as the boy slowly raised his head and it was obvious he was fighting the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"I don't _want_ to. But . . . that's what I'm _supposed_ to do, isn't it? I mean, I'm an _adult_ now, right?"

"Harry," Severus sighed with relief, walking toward his son until he was just within arms reach.. "You'll have to move out eventually, yes. But you don't have to yet. I don't want you to move out yet. In fact, it would be rather inconvenient as you have several years of training to go before you have an actual job." Harry gave a small smile.

"That's good," he answered, nodding absently. "I should . . . go get dressed." Harry gave a small laugh as he passed his father. "Oh, I was thinking I would go get my books tomorrow," he said and Severus nodded as his son left, thinking. 


	27. 3: Confrontations

**Thanks to rosie3107, CrackerJacknPez, witchsbroom, karlii, supergirl3684, Crazy-Physco, Musical Jelmo, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, blue artemis, acacia59601, JWOHPfan, excessivelyperky, and snapes wife to be for the reviews and to all of you who are sticking with me through my tedious updating schedule. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**A/N: Well, after a very long break that included the end of the semester and a two week period that I pretty much did nothing but sleep, here's a chapter. Hope you like it. I'm going to TRY to update on Sundays/Mondays. I might have to make it every other until I'm well enough to be able to concentrate on writing two chapters (for this and Brothers by Blood) a week, though.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 3 - Confrontations**

Harry took his time arriving in Severus' potions lab, dressed his worn robes with his hair back. Severus wasn't there yet, so he began to idly set up a few cauldrons, thinking he could probably do five simple pain relievers at once. It was a second year potion, so it was simple and straightforward. Going to the storage cupboard, he grabbed the handful of ingredients needed and was about to make his way back to his cauldrons when he noticed the notebook on the bottom shelf. Putting down the ingredients, he picked it up and flipped through.

As he thought, it was his father's research on the Dark Mark; his try at removing it. Slowly, Harry pulled his left sleeve up to see the dampened Mark he got through the painful visions nearly two years ago. Putting the notebook down, he turned to find his father staring at him. He gathered the ingredients and went back to his bench, almost feeling as if he was back in 5th year potions with the man.

"I'm at a standstill with the research," Severus said before setting up three of his own cauldrons. He stood there for a minute, then turned to Harry. "Are you sure you can do five pain relievers at the same time?" he asked after filling each cauldron up with water.

"Yeah. I'll just make them right in a row." He looked down to light a fire underneath the cauldrons and sitting down, he starting preparing the ingredients.

"Harry," Severus said from across the room a few minutes later, his voice barely audible, and Harry looked up. "I have an assignment for you. Create a potion that can make a copy of a person."

"Huh? You mean, like polyjuice?"

"No," Severus said. "A potion that would make a copy of a person. One that there would be no possible way to tell the difference, only the copy isn't really alive."

"Alright," Harry said slowly. "Any particular reason?"

"No," was Severus' flat answer.

- - - - - -

Harry wandered down the street, looking over his shoulder quickly to make sure his father was going into the apothecary, and he quickly entered the book store. He was hoping to get all the books on his list in Diagon Alley, but Severus said that he mostly likely wouldn't be able to. The book shop in Diagon Alley was a smaller store than the one in Hogsmede and mostly held books that Hogwarts students and the general public would buy.

Looking around when he stepped into the shop, he found it very busy. That meant he probably had to find the books himself. Taking out the list, Harry maneuvered his way around the small crowds of people to the register, where a blonde haired girl was giving a 2nd year he recognized change. Sighing, he decided not to bother any of the employees and just look for them himself, so he looked at the list and made his way to the defense section.

Turning the corner into one of the shelves, he ran right into Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," he hissed, with a shove.

"What's with you?" Harry snapped back, catching himself. "Forgot what a wand was?"

Malfoy got red in the face, but didn't answer. Harry stepped to the side and went past the blonde.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Malfoy asked quietly. Harry didn't bother turning around.

"What exactly are you talking about?"

"That room. The duel. You didn't tell anyone. Why not?" Malfoy sounded irritated, and Harry thought of how exactly to respond. He still didn't know what Dumbledore wanted with Malfoy, but the old man seemed to think there was something about him that he could use.

"I did," was his only answer before grabbing two of the books on his list and moving over to look for more.

"What do you mean, you did?" he asked, grabbing his arm, making him face the slytherin.

"I told someone," he answered, pulling his arm back.

"Then why–."

"Haven't figured it out yet?" Harry snapped. "Dumbledore thought it best not to expel you." Pulling the last defense book he needed from the shelf, Harry turned and left Malfoy to his thoughts, just wanting to find his books and get out of there. Turning the corner into the charms area, Harry began looking for the next book, hoping Malfoy would chose to leave him alone.

"_Advanced Locking Charms_," Harry muttered the book title to himself, looking over the overstuffed bookshelf in front of him. They seemed to have a lot more charms books than defense books, but they were all on everyday charms for cooking, cleaning, and other tasks. Looking at the other charms books on the list, he found one of them on the ill-organized shelves and turned to leave to find others. Turning the corner into the next row, he ran right into Malfoy again, but this time because the Slytherin was stationed right at the side of the shelf.

This time, though, Malfoy didn't say anything immediately, just looked him over with obvious disgust.

"I want to talk with you," Malfoy finally said and Harry shook his head and walked around the blonde.

"I have nothing to say to you, Malfoy," he answered.

"I have something to say to you, though. Something you might want to hear. Maybe even something you might enjoy, you know, with your _tastes_."

_My tastes?_ Harry thought to himself, wondering what Malfoy was going on about. Still, after a comment like _that_, Harry was probably obligated to hear him out even if it was for nothing else but getting information for the Order. "Then talk," Harry replied.

"Not here, you fool. Let's take lunch. Saturday, noon, at the Leaky Cauldron."

Malfoy was out of the shop before he could reply and Harry responded to empty space with a sigh. Severus came in about ten minutes later, and together they managed to find most the books on the list.

"They are sure to have them in Hogsmede. I can pick them up when I go this weekend," Severus said as he paid for the books.

"You're going to Hogsmede this weekend? When?"

"Saturday, about 11. I'm meeting Minerva for lunch. You are welcome to join us, if you wish."

"Er . . . no thanks," Harry said, thinking of plenty of things he'd rather do than eat lunch with his father and professor. _Plenty_ of things.

"Thought so," Severus said, leading the way out of the shop.

"Well, it's not that I don't want to eat with you, you know. I sort of made plans for lunch that day, is all." His father looked at him questioningly. "Made them a couple of minutes before you came, actually. Someone from my class wants to have lunch. It's a long story," Harry said quickly, hoping his dad would just drop it until they made it home.

"We would be discussing the direction of the school for next year, anyway, something I'm sure you have little interest in."

"Direction of the school?" Harry asked, jogging a few steps to catch up. "Wouldn't that be the headmaster's job?"

"You can't expect Albus to continue to be the headmaster of Hogwarts forever, Harry," Severus told him, almost sounding as if he was scolding him.

"He's retiring?"

"In a few years, most likely," Severus answered. "It is tradition for there to be a gradual transition and, for a time, have the current headmaster guide the Deputy in the headmaster duties and for the Deputy to train a new deputy."

"Wait," Harry said. "You're going to be the new Deputy Headmaster?" he asked, somewhat bewildered. He tried to spit out a congratulations, but all he could think was 'poor kids'.

"You have an objection?" Severus asked, sounding somewhat distant, as if he knew what Harry had been thinking.

"No, of course not," Harry replied quickly. "I didn't know you were interested in that job, though. I thought you liked teaching defense."

"I would still be teaching. I doubt I was their first choice, though. There are a few others who would probably be more suitable for the job, just a bit more adverse to actually performing it."

"It's good," Harry said, trying to convince himself that it actually _was_. Sure, he got along with his father just fine, but Severus still disliked a majority of the students. Harry hadn't spent a lot of time in his defense classes during 7th year, but he knew Neville was still afraid of him. Not as much, granted, but enough. Which meant most students still probably saw him as Harry used to see him.

"Yes," Severus replied, but the man's answer was not as strong as when he first mentioned the lunch meeting. "Need anything else?" he asked shortly.

"No," Harry answered glumly. He didn't mean to put his dad in a bad mood. _Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut_.

It wasn't until dinner time that Harry remembered the conversation with Malfoy, and their upcoming lunch meeting. Severus had gone back into the potions lab to work on more potions after they arrived back, but this time he told Harry he didn't need help. Instead, Harry went to his room and reread one of his old quidditch books and when he was done with that, he went to the kitchen to prepare supper for two.

Making mash and enough warm beef sandwiches for the both of them, Harry set the table – something they usually didn't do when it was just the two of them – and put the food on the table. It was actually past the time they usually had supper, so Harry wondered if his dad was in the middle of an important potion. Charming the dishes to keep the food warm, Harry waited another fifteen minutes before he went looking for the man.

The potions lab was empty and, strangely enough, clean, and it looked as if a potion hadn't been brewed in there for quite some time. Sighing with frustration, he checked Severus' bedroom and the bathrooms, not finding him in any of the rooms. Making his way downstairs, he finally found Severus coming out of the sitting room.

"Dinner's ready," Harry announced, but Severus just walked by him.

"I'm a bit busy, Harry," he replied and Harry followed him at a distance to the potions lab, where Severus shut the door rather loudly.

_Is he angry at me?_ Harry wondered. He didn't _think_ anything he said would warrant his father getting angry at him, but perhaps something happened that made him more irritable than usual. Canceling the charm on the dishes on the table, Harry grabbed one of the sandwiches and put the rest of the food in the icebox and went to his room to think about what about he would talk with Malfoy.

- - - --

Apparating to the front step of headquarters, Harry entered the house early. Severus was coming in a hour or so -- or so the man and said -- but Harry really had nothing to do so he decided he'd see if anyone was there to chat with. It wasn't as if Severus had been good with conversation lately, and it felt as if it had been an eternity since he'd seen the twins or Mrs. and Mr. Weasley and he felt it would be nice to catch up. Unfortunately, after a quick look through the main living rooms, he found no one he knew there.

Making his way to the kitchen, Harry felt something . . . _off_ there. He realized it had been awhile since he had been at headquarters, but it had only been last summer that he and Severus had lived there. Now, it felt like . . . someone else's house. He was about to brush it off as a feeling he was getting because he hadn't been there in a while, but as he stepped into the kitchen, he found a strange man, maybe in his 20's, at the kitchen table with a cauldron. At first, he thought it was just setting there, but it didn't take him long to realize the man was brewing a potion. At the _kitchen table_. And it looked like a pretty shoddy cauldron, at that. Part of the top edge was melted, even.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"What?" the man asked, looking up. "Oh, just brewing something. Trying to see if I can make a better potion to stop bleeding. One you don't have to drink."

"You're experimenting? In the _kitchen_?" Harry asked, bewildered. It was something that had been ingrained in him: potions are _not_ to be made around food. "People eat in here, you know."

"Oh, I know. Kalie was going to be making dinner for the meeting once she gets herself cleaned up. I thought it best to work here while I was waiting for people."

"There's a lab upstairs for potion making," was Harry's reply. "Making potions where people eat is dangerous."

"Don't worry, kid," the man said, dropping another ingredient into the cauldron then walking around the table to pat him on the shoulder. Harry looked up, irritated. Just because the man was a good six inches taller than him did not mean he could treat him like a child. Even McGonagall really didn't do that anymore. "What are you here for. Came along with your parents?"

"I'm here for the meeting," Harry said with irritation. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Been living here for a month. There was an attack at my house, and even though they're sure it wasn't Death Eaters, they still want to make sure the wards will keep up."

"Right," Harry replied, walking away from the man. "Keep the potions away from the kitchen."

"What right have you got telling me what to do?" the man said, sounding slightly dangerous. Harry was going to back down, but he knew other members would be arriving soon, anyway.

"It's my house," Harry replied flatly.

"Right," the man said, echoing Harry's earlier statement. "I'll go take care of that, then," he said, indicating the potion.

"You're just going to move it?" Harry blurted when the man went to pick up the cauldron. "You can't do that. Not if you're using the typical ingredients for a blood stopping potion. There are several ingredients that are volatile if mixed incorrectly!"

"Listen, kid," the man said, but was interrupted from saying anything more when the headmaster entered the room.

"Harry, has your father arrived?" Harry turned to face the old man.

"No, he'll be here in about an hour, I think," he answered, and Dumbledore nodded and looked toward the other man in the room.

"Hello Ryan," Dumbledore greeted. "Fairing well, I hope."

"Yes," was Ryan's reply.

"Good, good. A word in the library, if we may, Harry?" Harry followed, glaring back at Ryan as he left the kitchen. Upstairs, Dumbledore held the library door open and closed it once they were both in. "How many of the books have you read in this library?" the headmaster asked.

"What?" Harry asked. "Er . . . not a lot. The basic textbooks for a few subjects, mostly."

"And Severus?"

"I think he chose books at random."

"While Ryan and Phillip haven't looked through the books once," Dumbledore muttered, and Harry looked at him with confusion.

"Sir?" Harry asked with hesitation.

"And what of Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger?"

"Well, I know Hermione hasn't _read_ all the books, but I'm sure she knows this library better than dad does. Are you looking for something, sir?"

"Yes," he said after a moment's hesitation. "And I already have a few Order members searching though the Hogwarts library, with aid from Madam Pince, and others searching shops."

"You're looking for a book?"

"Not a specific book, just one that holds specific information." Not knowing what to say, Harry stayed quiet and waited for Dumbledore to continue. Eventually, he did. "I will have Ryan and Phillip aid you in the search. Any and all information you can find on Ananequa."

"Ananequa? What's that?"

"Any and all information, Harry," Dumbledore said. "If you find a book with information in it, set it aside and continue to look. It is spelled A-N-A-N-E-Q-U-A." Harry nodded. "I will inform the others and ask Ms. Granger if she has the time to look, also. I expect it will take quite a bit of time."

"Any ideas of where to start, sir?" Harry asked.

"Top left corner is usually a good place."

He sighed as Dumbledore left the room. Just to spite the old man, Harry decided to start at the bottom on the right side of the room.


	28. 3: Meetings

**Thanks to excessivelyperky, Musical Jelmo, GrlWithoutAName, mervoparkite, witchsbroom, karlii, blue artemis, rosie3107, supergirl3684, mrs severus snape, JWOHPfan, and acacia59601 for the reviews and to all of you who are sticking with me through my tedious updating schedule. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 4 - Meetings**

"Sure," Harry heard Hermione say as he walked into the kitchen. He had gotten though six books, all of which happened to have been novels. _What use could any information from those be?_ Harry wondered, but Dumbledore had said all information. "Perhaps Ron would like to help?"

"I work during the day," Ron answered, trying to deter her from pulling him into it. "And I'm usually tired after work. Besides, I don't know the library. I'd be of no use."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione said with exasperation.

"Everyone here?" Dumbledore asked and the group gathered around the table, and after a moment to finish off their conversations, everyone sat. Harry looked at the others at the table, but his father wasn't there. He looked at Dumbledore questioningly, but the old man only gave him a smile. Finally, he sat down between Ron and George and the meeting began.

"Ryan?" Dumbledore began. "You said you have news to report?"

"Yes," he said, sitting up straighter. "There are more laws that the Minister is pushing through. Some of them might not get passed, but, unfortunately, he has given most of the Wizengamot convincing reasons, though I haven't been able to gather all of them. Some of these laws would place more restrictions on muggleborns, while others would strengthen the boundaries between wizards and magical creatures such as werewolves. There is even talk of restricting marriages only to what the Ministry feels decent. I have a list of the laws and some descriptions." He passed a small roll of parchment down to Dumbledore. "There are also rumors that the Minister has been attempting to gain the favor of . . ." he paused, "Voldemort."

"That can't be," someone spoke up, a man Harry recognized from the only other Order meeting he had been to. "He would have no reason to do so."

"The Drimas have been neutral for years. It wouldn't take much convincing," someone else spoke up.

"I've heard that the daughter was raped by a muggleborn professor at their previous school. There are records for a trial at the Ministry, but I haven't seen it."

"Enough," Dumbledore said. "This is not a time for thoughtless gossip. Who has access to those files?"

"I do," Ryan said.

"Search for any information on the Minister's – and his family's – history with muggleborns." Harry looked over at his friends to find that Ron and Hermione were holding hands, obviously distressed with the news. Not that they shouldn't be. "Everyone else keep an eye out for information on the Drimas. Hopefully, the rumors of his siding with Lord Voldemort are completely wrong. Anyone else have news?" No one came forward. "Alright. Harry? I believe your father gave you an assignment recently?" Harry nodded. "I would like a potion that could work within a month, if you can manage it. I also have a few other potions I would like you develop as soon as you can." Dumbledore searched through a pile of parchment and handed him a list. "If you would like an assistant, let me know before the end of the meeting. There is quite a bit of work to be done there."

Harry looked over the list while Dumbledore handed out other work assignments. In addition to the 'clone project" which Harry decided could be the only name for such a task, there were detail-specific cloaking potions, trance potions, memory potions . . . a total of six. Harry inwardly groaned. He really was hoping he'd be done with potions except for the assignment Severus shoved on him and the occasional brewing. He thought he'd have so much free time with only five hours a day of training, but by the looks of it, he'd have even less. And where was Severus? Why not give _him_ that assignment.

"You have not acquired a job yet, Ms. Granger?" Harry tuned in to the meeting again.

"No, sir," Hermione replied.

"Good. I would like you to go to this orphanage for a temporary job. They will be expecting you for an orientation tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. I have been told there are several children who are showing signs of magic. A dozen, at least."

"Several at one place?" Hermione asked.

"Actually, there has been in increase in the number of muggleborns born in the past four years. An astonishing increase. Although, parentage is not known for most of them, so it is possible they are half blood wizards, or have wizardry in the background," Mr. Weasley said. "I've been keeping record of reported signs of magic."

"Is that why the first and second year classes are so much larger than the upper years?" Hermione asked.

"And they will continue to get larger," Mr. Weasley answered.

"Ahem," someone cleared there throat. Harry looked up to see that it had been Ryan. "One of the laws that would pass would restrict muggleborn entrance into a British wizarding school. And entrance would be decided by the Ministry, not the school."

"What?" Everyone started talking among themselves at once until they realized Dumbledore was sitting at the table quietly, his hands folded.

"Where will they go?" Ron asked. "They can't be schooled at home if they don't have any magical relatives." Everyone immediately turned their head to look at the headmaster.

"It is being looked into," Dumbledore said simply, getting a sigh from some at the table. "If there are no more questions, I do have a few assignments." Harry listened to the rest of the meeting only to gather what was being done, but for the most part, he tuned out and thought through the potion assignments he was given. He had a basic idea for most of them on the list, but he wasn't sure he could make them all in a timely fashion.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry turned to look at him, listening once again. "Do you have an answer for me?"

"Er . . ."

"Just say yes, Harry," Hermione whispered to him over Ron. "You'll be glad for the help."

Harry sighed. "Yes."

"Good, good. I will let you know soon."

Apparently the meeting was over because everyone started getting up and leaving. Harry stood to make his way to the library again as a young girl entered the room. He looked at her, not recognizing her from Hogwarts. She looked about 12, so perhaps she was home schooled. He was ready to shake his head and forget her for now, since he had work to do, but instead of starting work, Remus called his name before he left the kitchen.

"Hi!" Harry answered. "I didn't even see you, I'm sorry."

"That's fine, Harry. How are you? It has been awhile."

"Yeah, it has. Do you have time to talk?"

Remus nodded, and Harry smiled. Actually, Harry felt quite bad. He hadn't even written Remus this past year. Once they got to Harry's old room, which – thankfully – no one had moved into, Harry sat on the bed and Remus followed suit.

"How was your last year at Hogwarts?"

"Busy," Harry replied. "I didn't have time for anything except quidditch, the DA, helping people and classes."

"Severus really pushed you, huh?"

"Yeah. Although . . . I don't know. A lot went on this year."

"Are you and Severus getting along?"

Harry smiled. "Yeah. He even took me to the States as a graduation present. He really doesn't push me so much, anymore. I think I do most of the pushing." Remus gave him a strange look and Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't told anyone, because it's probably nothing but . . . I've felt really weird since the Voices no longer have any control over me." Harry sighed.

"The Voices?" Remus asked and Harry looked at him closer.

"I didn't tell you? Or Dad, either?"

"No, Harry, you didn't."

"Oh," Harry replied, feeling a bit more guilty. "It's a long story, and I really don't fully understand how, but there's these people – or maybe they're a something – in the Forbidden Dungeon. I've never seen them, but they've spoken to me. And they can do really strange things, like make you see things that aren't there. Dad and I managed to separate ourselves from them, though, but now I just feel sort of . . . _empty_. And lost. Like there's no light. I think they've been able to control me since before Enyami put that potion in my drink."

"Potion?"

"One that made it so the Voices could speak to me as if they were there with me." Harry sighed. "I was hoping, with Auror apprenticeship being only five hours a day that I would have time to do other things, but now I have to search the library for something Dumbledore's calling Ananequa and he won't even tell me what it is _and_ I have to develop so many potions. I don't really like potions, you know. It was something the Voices wanted me to do, and after that, Dad seemed so happy that I was almost to the point of taking the WPAM exam, so I _couldn't_ just back out of it. He had said he would have been alright if I decided to stop potions, but . . ."

"It's alright, Harry. You'll have at least one person to help you with those potions," Remus said. Harry sighed again. "Harry?" he asked. "If you are not feeling as in control as you think you should be, you should speak with Severus. Perhaps he would know how to help," he continued soothingly."

"I think he's angry with me. He's locked himself in his potions lab and he barely talks to me when I see him. It feels as if he's trying to avoid me."

"Knowing Severus, if he was angry at you, you'd know it. He has quite a temper."

"He ignored Dumbledore for an entire week last summer, you know. Didn't say a word to him because he was angry with him, but Dumbledore never even knew. He just thought he was doing a lot of thinking."

"Have you tried talking to him?"

"Of course! But he just says he's too busy to talk. Or eat. And obviously sleep, because he didn't sleep in his bed last night. He's never stayed up all night, as long as I've lived with him. I think five in the morning was the latest he's ever gone to bed. And he wasn't at the Order meeting today."

"I saw him," Remus said. "He came and was talking to the Headmaster for a bit before he left again. Perhaps he has an urgent assignment."

"Perhaps . . . You know, sometimes I think the headmaster has this grand scheme all planned out already, and we're just putting the pieces together, like a puzzle."

Remus gave a little chuckle and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's quite possible," he said.

"Do you think . . ." Harry trailed off and shook his head.

"What?"

"It's nothing," Harry responded with a slow shake of his head. "So, what have you been doing?"

"Oh, nothing much at the moment. Taking a little break from the heavy work in the Order and just working in a muggle library for some money. I've been thinking of moving. There's this dog in the flat next to me that just won't shut up. And the landlord won't do a think about it. Maybe I'll get a flat in London."

Harry laughed. "Did you know Aunt Marge breeds dogs? Little annoying things. There's this one that she _always_ brought when she visited the Dursleys. That dog still hates me, I think. I should probably write to her soon, though. I promised I would write. She probably still doesn't like me, but once she found out I'm a wizard, she stopped talking so horrible to me. Entirely opposite of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon."

They were quiet for awhile, until Remus questioned quietly, "Do you miss them?"

"Who?" Harry asked.

"The Dursleys."

Harry didn't answer for a long time.

"I don't know. I never think about them, actually. I remember when Dumbledore first told me they were killed, the first thing my mind went to was what he explained to me about the blood wards. After that, I was just worried about Fudge getting guardianship of me. Dad says it's natural for me to not have any sort of attachment to them. Well, he said something like that. They hated me, you know."

"They might not have hated you as much as you thought, you know," Remus said, and Harry just looked at his old professor strangely. "Never mind. I was just thinking." Harry nodded.

"I should go to the library. I need to try to find information about . . . what ever it is."

"I would help, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be of much use. I've had a horrible headache for the past couple hours that won't go away. I might find a room and take a nap. It might do me some good, as I haven't slept much in the past couple of days."

"You can sleep in here," Harry suggested. "I doubt anyone would come in here. I think people know it's my room."

"Thank you, Harry," Remus smiled softly, and Harry nodded and left for the library.

- - - - - — – - - - -

The next day, Harry dressed in black robes, his wand close at hand and emergency potions in his pockets. He was worried because Severus hadn't come home last night nor left a message so he was planning on making a stop in Hogsmede before his meeting with Malfoy so see if he Severus showed up for his own lunch date. Unfortunately, several things stopped him on his way, including first Neville then the twins trying to convince him to go to their shop later in the afternoon.

"We have many new surprises we're sure you'd be _very_ interested in," Fred had said and the only way Harry got away in time to make the meeting with Malfoy was to say he'd go, despite him not being in any mood for jokes at the time.

He managed to arrive at the Leaky Cauldron a few minutes before Malfoy and took a table near the side of the main room without a word to each other. When a waiter came by to take their order, they paid no mind to each other and both order simple food. They had no delusions that this conversation wouldn't be an easy one.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry finally asked as he had a feeling Malfoy wasn't going to say a word until he did. Harry did _not_ want to spend all day in the pub.

"You have several things he wants, Potter," Malfoy answered.

"What?"

"Several things. I'm not going to tell you what they are – that would ruin all the run – but he will get them no matter how hard you protect them."

"I don't have anything of Volde–."

"Don't say his name!" Malfoy hissed. "Are you mad?"

Harry didn't answer.

"Look, Potter. I'm here to tell you that there is a way to make the transition easier." Malfoy was then silent as he ate his sandwich.

"Is that it?" Potter asked. "What transition?"

"You'll find out sooner or later. Probably later. And if you can't find a way to make the transition easier on your own, it really isn't worth the effort. I'm just here to let you know."

"He's planning something," Harry stated flatly, and Malfoy laughed.

"What ever gave you that idea?"

"He's planning something big."

"Oh, he's not planning anything, not anymore. He's finished with the planning."

"You're lying, Malfoy," Harry snapped.

"Am I? Why would I do that?"

"How would you have access to his _plans_?" Harry asked.

"Perhaps because he wanted me to tell you," Malfoy answered. "The old fool isn't the only one who can plan ahead. Only difference is that _he_ is a bit smarter than him and he knows things Dumbledore could never know."

Malfoy stood, left some money on the table and left without another word. Harry glared after him for a few minutes before going to the front desk and paying for his own meal, telling the cashier that Malfoy left money on the table for the partially eaten meal.

Harry needed to see Dumbledore immediately. Honestly, he had no idea what Malfoy was going off about, but Harry had a feeling it wasn't about their meeting. Malfoy told him too much . . . and yet nothing at all, which Harry found strange. But, it might be enough information for the headmaster. Normally, he would have told Severus because he felt more comfortable talking to him, but as he had no idea where his father was, he knew it was best just to go to the old man.

Severus had said Dumbledore would be spending most of his time at Hogwarts this summer, something about keeping his ground, but Harry wasn't sure if it would be easy to get there. Or, inside Hogwarts, at least. Trying to stop himself from doing something impulsive, Harry forced himself to floo home before flooing Dumbledore.

"Why, hello, Harry. I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon."

"Is this secure?"

"Not as secure as I would like," was the answer. "Come through, and we'll talk." Once in the headmaster's office, Harry was guided to a seat and tea appeared on the desk next to him. "Unfortunately, the floo network is being watch much closer than it should be and any more protections on this fireplace would arouse suspicion. Now, what is it you needed to talk about."

"I had a meeting with Malfoy – Draco Malfoy – today. He claimed he had something to tell me, but–." Dumbledore held up his hand to stop Harry from continuing. The man stood up and pulled out his pensieve.

"The memory, if you would," he said quietly, and Harry added his memory to the bowl. "I will look over it thoroughly in a bit. Now, since you're here, would you mind looking at headquarters to see if Remus is still there and give this to him for me? If he isn't just bring it back, but do not look at it. It is very important that only he reads this." Dumbledore handed him an envelope. Harry hesitated in leaving, through. "Was there something else you wish to speak about?"

"Er . . . yes, sir. My dad . . ."

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry, my boy, I must admit I had forgotten to tell you. He is on an important mission that must be completed within the next month. I'm afraid no one will be seeing much of him until it's finished."

"Thank you, sir. I'll take the letter then," Harry answered, taking the letter and leaving for headquarters through the floo. In the room was the girl he had seen the day before.

"Hello," she said timidly, then looked at him closely. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you? My father said you might come and go."

"Yes," Harry said. "What's your name?"

"Julia," she said, blushing. "Julia Berch. I'm not going to be here long. My dad's sending me to live with my mother for a couple months. He says it's not safe enough here."

"Oh?" Harry asked. When she didn't answer, and nodded and looked toward the stairs. "Do you know if Remus Lupin is still here?"

"I think so. He was here for lunch. Did you want some?"

"No, thanks," Harry answered. "I need to find Remus."

"He's in one of the rooms upstairs. I believe he said it was yours," Ryan said, entering the room from the kitchen. "Julia, go to your room," he told the girl.

"Yes, dad," she said as she headed up the stairs. Harry soon followed suit, knocking on the bedroom door before he entered. Remus was laying in the bed, curtains closed.

"Remus?" Harry asked. "You alright?" Remus turned in the bed until he was looking at Harry.

"Hello, Harry," he sighed. "Just a headache."

"Still? Did you take a potion?"

"Yes, but it didn't do much good. I think I caught something from working in the muggle library. Nothing horrible."

"You should come over to my house. I'm sure we have a stronger headache potion than anything you would find here." Remus nodded.

"I'll do that. Seeing your house might distract me, if nothing else."

"Oh, I forgot," Harry said, pulling the envelope from his pocket and handing it to his former professor. "From Dumbledore. Said only you were to read it."

"Thank you, Harry," he said, pocketing it immediately, without a glance. "Shall we go, then?"

Harry nodded and after a few minutes, they made it to the manor without any problems, despite Remus looking white, as if he was going to faint.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Harry asked. "You don't look so well."

"I'll be fine. Now, about this potion . . .?"

"Oh. Yeah. This way." Harry led Remus upstairs to the large cupboard the kept made potions in that didn't need special storage. He searched through it until he came across the headache potion he was looking for. "This should help. If it doesn't . . . maybe you should go to St. Mungos to make sure nothing horrible is wrong."

Remus took the potion quickly, grimacing.

"I'll be fine, Harry."

They stood there for a moment, until Harry spoke up.

"Do you work soon?"

"I have this weekend off," Remus said. "Don't work until Monday. If you don't mind, I think I'll take another nap . . ."

"Oh, sure," Harry said, leading Remus to one of the guest rooms. "Here. When you get up, I'll show you around. Do you need anything?"

"No, just sleep, Harry." Remus said, slowly closing the door, leaving Harry to his own devices.


	29. 3: Starting Training

**Thanks to ****karlii, jeido95, Musical Jelmo, mrs severus snape, JWOHPfan, blue artemis and supergirl3684 ****for the reviews and to all of you who are sticking with me through my tedious updating schedule. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 5 - Starting Training**

"Name?" a lady asked at the desk.

"Harry Potter-Snape," he replied, getting annoyed. This was this third time he had gone through this in the past fifteen minutes. Any longer, and he was going to be late. She flipped through some papers.

"Ah, yes. Room 12, just beyond the offices," she said, pointing to a tight corridor behind him.

"Thank you," he said, glad to _finally_ have gotten past all the desk people. He was lucky he remembered to come early, otherwise he would have been late. Walking fast through the corridor, which was packed with small offices on either side of it, he nearly ran into Shacklebolt as the man exited his office.

"Right on time, Potter," he said and Harry smiled. "You remembered to bring the books?"

"Yes, they're in my bag, shrunk."

"Good. I need to fetch something, go ahead and meet me in room 9."

"Nine? The desk lady told me 12 . . ."

"We'll be going there after," Shacklebolt said. "Room 9 is a locker and resting room." The auror dived back into his office and he made his way to room 9. Harry found it strange that none of the offices seemed to be numbered.

The door to room 9 was closed when he found it, but he let himself in to find a rather large room, with large, blue lockers on the left, a sitting area on the right and a door leading to somewhere at the back. No one paid him any mind when he came in, so he shut the door behind him quietly and sat down on one of the comfortable chairs in the sitting area. Well, it looked more comfortable than it actually was. Harry wondered briefly if they did that on purpose. Bored already, he examined the lockers in front of him. They looked to be about six inches taller than he was, and maybe about two and a half feet wide. Harry was thinking that the room must have been magically expanded because it didn't look like there was enough room for the 30 lockers that were there, but they did all fit.

There were four other people in the room, two talking quietly in a far corner and two others reading on their own. Harry was about to take out his books and unshrink them when his trainer came through the door, not shutting it behind him.

"Here you are, Harry," he said, throwing something at him, which he caught with ease. Looking at it, he noticed it looked like a muggle key padlock. He mentioned this.

"It is similar. The key that is with it, though, can only be used by you after the first time it is used. There are other securities put on it, as you will learn during your training." Shacklebolt walked over to the lockers and opened the first unlocked one from the left. "This is your locker," he said. "Any mail for you that has been sent to the Ministry, or information you'll need, will arrive on the top shelf, so check it every day when you arrive and when you leave, and don't store anything up there. The mail comes through the top of the locker and nothing harmful should be able to get through. There is always a possibility, though, so still be careful. Bookshelves," Shacklebold continued pointing to each section, going from top to bottom. "Most students use these three drawers to keep parchment and writing supplies. There's also a spot for hanging closed and the drawers that can be used for clothing, though they don't need to be."

Harry looked over it and began to unpack his books and set them up in the top book shelf. Even with them shrunk, they nearly took up the entire width, but the auror stopped him from moving some to the bottom shelf.

"The lockers are magically sized, so the shelves will hold a lot more books than they look they should. I also suggest you bring in a good, plain black robe. There are times you will need to dress a bit more formally. All the other clothes you will need will be provided, but you are also welcome to bring in more, similar type clothing. Most of the clothing wears a bit thin quite readily." Harry nodded, wondering why he would need more than just one set of clothes, especially if he could just wash it. "Put your stuff away, and I'll explain this room more," he continued, and Harry un-shrunk his books and put the rest of this school things away while Shacklebolt continued talking. "The other side of the room is for breaks, but you are allowed to come here when you don't need to be here for training. It is a good place to study or just read, as the classrooms are not to be used except for during class. The room in the back is a washroom. There are several rooms with showers and a place to wash clothes, if you wish to use them."

Harry finished putting the things in his locker and turned toward the door at the back of the room, then looked at his mentor.

"The books you will be using today are Basic Locking Charms, and Transfiguring Shields," Shacklebolt said while turning to look at him, and Harry grabbed those books. One of them was "You will also need parchment and a quill. Once you retrieve those, you may close your locker."

Harry grabbed his parchment notebook, ink and quill before closing his locker and locking it, putting the key, which was on a chain, around his neck. No more words passed between the two as they left the locker room and traveled a couple doors down to room 12. The door was open and they walked in to find a small classroom. Small, being compared to a medium-sized living room. There were a total of six students desks, in three rows of two, and none were spaced far enough apart to be comfortable. The corner furthest from the door was a teacher desk with a rather large parcel setting on it and in the front of the classroom was a chalk board that filled the entire wall from waist up. Harry watched as the auror walked to the desk to look at the parcel.

"Good," he heard him mutter. "They actually got it correct this time." Turning to Harry, he handed the parcel to him. "These are yours. You may put your supplies on one of the desks and then go to the locker room and change into black shorts and white shirt. Put the rest in your locker and meet me in room 14. Oh, and in case you are wondering, there is no room 13."

"No room 13?" Harry asked, wondering how superstitious wizards could actually be.

"No room 13. Oh, there's a door, but the room itself has just . . . disappeared. Some have tried to search for it, but everyone who had gone looking in the past also disappeared. Mind that you don't open that door, for any reason."

"Alright," Harry nodded, wondering how an entire room could just disappear. "What did it used to be used for?"

"We're not sure. The Department of Mysteries keeps that a secret. The room's been gone for a few hundred years, you see. Now, hurry, there are many introductions to be done today."

Harry went to the locker room and opened the parcel. Inside was a cloth bag filled with clothes and other belongings. Searching, he found the closest thing he could find to black shorts (knee length, sweat pants type shorts, but the material was something Harry wasn't familiar with) and an almost robe-like, no-sleeves white shirt. It was almost down to his knees, so it almost completely covered the shorts. With his muggle history, Harry couldn't help but think the 'outfit' slightly girlish and very strange.

Throwing the rest of the package in his locker to go through later, Harry went to the bathroom to change, then went to room 14, giving the 13th door a glance. He wasn't going to open it, but he couldn't deny that he was curious as to what was behind there. Nothingness? Blackness? Bright white?

Before entering room 14, Harry tried to think of what nothingness would look like, but he couldn't seem to wrap his mind around it.

Room 14 looked somewhat like a gym. Harry guessed it was a track around the outside of the room, but it kept changing, as if to prove that it wasn't going to be normal. In the center was a long, thin swimming pool (for laps, Harry assumed), hand weights and a bunch of open space. Shacklebolt was standing next to a table that – only when Harry didn't look at it closely – glowed a pale blue. Suddenly, the track stopped changing, becoming a simple stone running way around the perimeter of the large room. It was then that he realized a girl had been running on the track.

"Ten laps, Mr. Potter," the auror called to him, and Harry must have looked at the man as if he was mad because Shacklebolt started to explain. "Run. Ten laps. Start slow. Walk for a while if you need to between running, but only if you need to." Harry still didn't move. "Now!"

Harry stepped onto the gray stone path and a red line drew itself across it and the number 0 floated in the air on the side. Harry guessed it was to keep track of the laps. Looking at Shacklebolt, who was now talking to the girl, he sighed and started with a jog. He hadn't honestly run since – maybe – primary school. Sure he ran from Dudley and Piers and the others, but he had adrenaline to aid him then. Now, all he had was the little breakfast he had that morning and the excitement of the new surroundings. Which, at the moment, wasn't very great.

Harry guessed it took him a better part of an hour to finish those then laps, with only stops for water when it was allowed ("Only every two laps. It will give you more will to finish.") and when he finally crossed that red finish line, Harry nearly tripped over his own feet, so he stopped, trying to breathe.

"Keep walking. You need to cool down, and walking slowly is the best way to do that." Thankfully, though, the man gave him a large, wooden goblet of water which he sipped as he walked, trying not to choke in the water because he was breathing too hard. Finally, he was able to breathe gently, and Shacklebolt led him to the classroom they were previously in, only this time the girl from the track before and a bloke were in there reading, both in the front row on the outside. Harry was tempted to sit in the back row in the middle, where he'd have more space, but a look at Shacklebolt told him he was better off sitting in the middle front seat.

"Harry, this is Sam," he said, indicating the ash blonde girl, "and Peter," he said, pointing to the dark haired guy. "Peter, swim for an hour. I want as many laps as you can push."

"Yes, sir," Peter nodded and left and the auror faced Harry.

"Read the first two chapters of both books. You have an hour for that. Sam, recite the first 11 items that . . ."

Harry tried to block out the lesson Shacklebolt was giving Sam and concentrate on the books. The chapters weren't long and he finished them in about 40 minutes, leaving him to tune in and out of Sam's lesson and to skim over the chapters again. Finally, Sam was told to go room five and to solve 5 and 32.

"Tired?" Shacklebolt asked after Sam had left.

"A bit," Harry answered.

"Good," the auror said. "Although it will get easier the more you run, running will not be the most strenuous physical activity you will be doing."

Harry couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he nodded instead.

Immediately, the auror began the lesson, only writing basic points and drawing diagrams on the large board behind him. It felt strange, Harry realized, being the only student in a classroom, because it felt as if he should have been keeping eye contact with the auror, but he also had to write down as much as he could, and even writing in shorthand he didn't think he was able to write down all the information.

The hour long lesson turned into an hour long reading session (the same chapters he had already read; Shacklebolt said he had to know the information well by tomorrow because he will be tested on it the next day) and finally, he was brought back to the large 'running room', as Harry deemed it in his head. This time, though, Peter was in there running a strange obstacle course around the room, and Harry caught himself watching several times.

"We'll go through a few simple exercises, then you may go," Shacklebolt had said, but the exercises didn't seem simple to him. It took maybe 45 minutes to go through all of them briefly, and Harry wasn't sure he'd remember them all (or even most of them) the next day. Even so, when they were done, he was almost glad his first day of training was over.

In the locker room, he changed into his normal clothes before organizing his locker. There were more clothes than he thought there would be. After he finished and was about to leave, Sam walked through from the bathroom, dressed in heavy winter clothes. She gave him a smile as she passed him, but nothing was said between the two.

When he finally made it to the exit floor, Harry was ready to go home and simply sleep for awhile, but he was distracted when he saw Ryan and his daughter waiting on a bench near the entrance. The man waved him over, so Harry reluctantly – and slowly – made his way over there.

"Mr. Potter," the man greeted.

"Hello," Harry answered.

"Dad, I don't want to go with mum," Harry heard Julia whine and her father tried to hush her quickly.

"I suppose I'll get to the point," Ryan finally spoke up after Harry just stood there awkwardly for a moment. "I am supposed to be helping you with your potions, by request of the headmaster. Me and a girl name Ginny."

"Oh," Harry said trying to keep the disappointment from his voice. He thought he succeeded. Ginny was alright, even though he didn't really know how she was in potions, but he would have to set down some rules if Ryan was to be helping him.

"I really am decent with potions, you can ask Snape – Professor Snape, that is. I was near the top in his class, so that must say something. I'm better at brewing than making up new ones, though. I can never really get those to work."

"I'll get some instructions to you once I think of something, then," Harry answered. "I must go, though, I have a busy day today," Harry lied. Actually, he didn't plan on doing much of anything.

"Right, of course," Ryan answered. "We're not here for long, either. Just waiting for Julia's mother to come pick her up."

"Do I _have_ to go?" she whined again.

"You'll be safer there," he answered.

"Good bye, then," Harry said, not wanting to stay. Ryan said goodbye as Harry was walking away. Deciding he'd check to see if Ginny – or anybody else – was at headquarters, he flooed there and almost immediately found Severus.

"Hi, Dad," he said, and his father looked up from the papers he was reading.

"I'm not here for long."

"That's alright."

"Your first day of training was today, wasn't it? How did that go?"

"Fine," Harry answered. Reading, exercising . . . nothing really exciting."

"No, I wouldn't expect it to be," Severus answered. Harry sat thinking for a few minutes while Severus continued to read.

"What do you know about Ryan?" Harry asked.

"Ryan?"

"Ryan, who's in the Order. Dumbledore made him my . . . _assistant_," Harry said, finding it very strange to say aloud, "but I don't know anything about him other than he has a daughter and he was brewing potions in the kitchen."

Severus sighed. "Oh, him."

"Is he horrible?" Harry asked.

"At potions? No. He's decent enough. He was a fifth year in my first year teaching. By that time, his daughter was a year old already." Harry just stared at Severus, not knowing what to say to that. He supposed he never though of someone having a kid while at Hogwarts. "I suppose if he still has the child, he's a better father than he was while in school."

"He's sending her to her mother for a bit because he doesn't think it's safe here."

"He moved out this morning, back into his own house."

"Oh, well, I suppose that makes sense, then," Harry replied, and Severus shook his head slightly.

"They put enough protection on his house, she would be a lot safer there than anywhere else, I'm sure."

"Well, why was his house attacked in the first place? He said it wasn't Voldemort."

"I can't say I know," Severus said, but the way he said it, Harry assumed his father had ideas. He knew better than to press it, though; he could tell Severus didn't like the man. Adding that to Harry's first impression of him, Harry wasn't so sure he wanted the man working with – _for_ – him.

"Is Ginny here?" Harry asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

"Not to my knowledge. I know Ms. Granger is currently in the library." There was a small pause. "Any particular reason you are asking about Ms. Weasley? I didn't think you two were extremely close," Severus said, a look on his face Harry wasn't quite sure how to interpret, but it made him uneasy anyway.

"We're not. We've talked sometimes, but she's Ron's little sister. She has her own friends, I have mine . . . But Dumbledore made her one of my assistants, too."

"Really?" his father asked flatly. "I would not have her brewing anything experimental."

"Is she good at potions?" Severus sighed.

"Not . . . exceptional," was his father's reply and Harry nodded, not knowing exactly what to do with that information.

"So . . . what are you doing for the Headmaster?" Harry asked. "Or can't you tell me?"

Severus looked up from the papers he was going through and looked over Harry as if trying to determine what exactly he was. It made Harry uncomfortable; Severus hadn't looked over him like that since just before they started getting along and it brought back memories he really didn't want to think about at the moment.

"Things for the school," Severus said, flipping through a few more pages and pulling them from the pile and putting them aside. "In case the muggleborn laws are passed."

"Oh." Harry got the feeling that Severus was busy and unable to really talk, so although he wanted to stay and chat about _something_, if nothing in particular, he decided it was best if he went to find Hermione and look through more books. "I'll see you later?" he asked, and Severus nodded absently.

Upstairs, Hermione was in the library near the back, sitting on the floor with a few piles of books surrounding her.

"Hi, Hermione. Find anything yet?"

She looked up. "Oh, hi, Harry. No, not really. I think I may have found two that reference it, but they're really old books so either the spelling if different or it is something entirely different."

"Any idea what it is yet?"

"No," she sighed. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Nearly four, I think," he answered.

"I suppose I should get going." Harry gave her a strange look. "I work evenings and nights at the orphanage now. It's harder than I thought. There's so many kids!" Harry gave her a smile. "Are you here to look through the book?"

"Yeah," he said. "I thought I'd look for a few hours before going home."

"Good luck, then," Hermione replied, standing up and heading for the door.

"Bye." After she left, Harry went to the corner he had started looking through before, picked the next few books and sat down on the floor. He got a few pages into the first book when he decided going through books was definitely _not_ something he wanted to do right then, so leaving the books where they were, Harry pulled out the paper with Remus' address on it. _It wouldn't hurt to see how he's doing_, Harry thought to himself.

Harry didn't want to floo there and he couldn't apparate there because he'd never been there before, so he went to the front porch and apparated a few streets from headquarters before summoning the Knight Bus. After a hazardous ride, he found himself in front of a large building where he and two other people got off at. Double checking the number, he took the stairs to the fourth floor and found the correct flat.

Harry knocked, but it was a few minutes before Remus opened the door.

"Harry," he said with surprise. "I wasn't expecting you." Harry shrugged.

"I didn't have much to do so I came to see how you were doing," he answered, entering the room and closing the door behind him. "How are you?"

"Still have this headache," Remus answered.

"You should have that checked out . . ."

"I have a day off on Thursday. If I still have the headache by then, I'll go to St. Mungos. I'd rather not see a mediwizard if I don't absolutely need to, Harry," Remus replied, sounding tired.

"Why not?"

"Werewolves aren't usually treated the best at a hospital. They're usually scared, unless they're experience enough, and the new laws aren't helping any."

"Oh," Harry replied, feeling as if he was saying that word an awful lot today.

"I was about to make dinner. Would you like to stay?"

"I'll help you," Harry said immediately. He wasn't in a mood to eat alone, tonight. In the kitchen, Remus immediately picked up a rather large muggle book, marked his place and put it aside.

"What are you reading?" Harry asked.

"Just a book from the library," he answered. "Not the most interesting, but I started it and it passes time. Are you reading anything?"

Harry shook his head. "Unless you count assigned textbook reading as reading, no. I've never really read stories. Not since Primary school."

"You should sometime," Remus said. "It's good."

Dinner was simple. Just pasta and pesto with chicken, but it was still better than what Harry would have made if he had make dinner just for himself. They talked a bit before Harry left at seven, knowing he had some studying to do that night. He was outside Remus' door when he remembered that flooing home would have been the best option, but as he knew Remus was in his bedroom getting ready for bed, he decided to take the Knight Bus home. Passing a smiling man in the hallway, Harry smiled back and made his way home.


	30. 3: Until You Lose It

**Thanks to ****Lucius Jordan, karlii, witchsbroom, JWOHPfan, supergirl3684, and blue artemis ****for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**I'll probably add in the scenes I summarized when I get to this chapter for the editing/rewriting, but I kept on running into writers block for the chapter. sigh**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 6 - Until You Lose It**

It was nearly a month later until Harry saw his father again, with no evidence of the man ever coming home when Harry hadn't been there, nor had anyone seen or heard from him since the day he had been reading at headquarters. Harry had tried contacting Dumbledore, but the old man would always avoid the subject.

What was so secretive that he wasn't even allowed to know where his father was?

In addition to being worried about his father, Hermione had become rather involved in the activities of the orphanage so she would only stop by headquarters to search more through the library, usually while Harry was at the Ministry, so he rarely saw her, and Ron was either working or helping the twins at their shop. Or sitting around doing nothing.

Sometimes after his training, he'd go the twin's shop and help out, or to headquarter to search through books, but most of his free time was spent trying to brew new potions correctly and – if he had the time – to visit Remus.

Thankfully, Remus' headache had mostly subsided to a point where a mild headache potion every three days would take the pain away, so the werewolf had absolutely refused to go to St. Mungos. Harry was surprised at how close he and Remus had gotten. At least twice a week, they would spend the evening together, sometimes go out for food or just sit around and talk. There was just something about the man, how he could make you feel better by pointing things out or saying something nice.

That night was one of those nights, a few nights before the nearly-full moon would usually make him sick. They were going out to some muggle restaurant where they needed reservations, so Remus had told Harry to dress in something a little nicer than usual. Wearing black pants and a blue dress shirt, Harry jogged down the stairs to find what he did with his shoes. Turning into the living room rather quickly, he ran straight into Severus.

"Dad!"

"Harry," he answered, looking slightly disheveled, like he just got up. Or he hadn't gotten very much sleep lately. "Where are you going, all dressed up?"

"Remus and I are going to eat tonight. Do you want to come?" Harry asked, not wanting to not leave his father the first time he'd seen him in weeks. "I'm going there early, so it shouldn't be hard to change the reservations."

Severus sighed. "Let me clean up." He stood there for a moment, looking torn. "Fifteen minutes," he said before going upstairs. In a few minutes short of that, Severus came down wearing similar clothes. "How are we getting there?" he asked, looking better.

"I always take the Knight Bus. He can't be connected to the floo because there's no fireplace in his flat and the bus isn't tiring like apparating can be."

The trip to Remus' was quick, but silent, as Severus watched out the window of the bus and Harry was reluctant to pull the man from his musings. Something about his father being back made him uncomfortable and it wasn't because he didn't want him there. More like . . . he hoped nothing had changed between them.

Stupid, he knew. He had only been on a work-related trip. It wasn't as if he had died and come back because of some form of necromancy.

It probably didn't help that it had been the first time they'd been really apart since sixth year.

"Harry, Severus," Remus greeted when he opened the door.

"It's not to late to change reservations, is it?"

"No, of course not. They're never busy on Wednesdays," Remus replied, letting them in. Harry automatically went to his now-usual seat under the window, an old but very comfortable, cushy chair. With a bit more hesitation, Severus sat on the sofa.

"I'm a bit surprised to see you here, Severus," Remus joked once he was off the telephone. "I was beginning to come to the impression you had disappeared off the face of the earth.

"Yes, well, you do what you must," Severus answered, obviously not in much of a joking mood at the moment.

"Is your job all finished, then?"

"For the time being," Severus answered. "Although I'm not sure exactly how it will work out in the end. It's one of Albus' more outstanding ideas."

"And by outstanding, I'm sure you don't mean exceptionally good," Remus replied.

"More like exceptionally mad," he sighed. "I'm just glad it's done for now and I can look forward to a good meal and a full night's rest."

The three sat in silence until Remus stood up and grabbed the book he had been reading.

"I finished this," he said, dropping it in Harry's lap, not seeming to care that it slapped down hard. "And I've noticed something rather interesting."

Remus didn't continue as he sat down. "What?" Harry asked.

"Ananaqua."

"There's information on it in _this _book?" Harry said, quite unconvinced.

"I doubt it's accurate. It actually only came into the story at the last chapter." Harry opened up the book. "The author said it was a plant that could be made into a type of drug which induced hallucinations. Albus did say any and all information did he not?"

"I suppose, yeah. So . . . should I start looking at books with muggle mythology or something?"

"I'm sure the headmaster has others looking into it. He did just say to look through the library?"

Harry thought. "Yeah."

"Then don't put thought into it unless he says otherwise. He has plans in his head and if you start going off on your own, you'll find it was all pointless." Harry nodded.

"I finished the cloning potion," he said, changing the subject. "I think."

"Already?" Severus asked.

"I've been working on it since you told me. Ryan's the one who had brewed it last time, and it almost worked, but I'm sure he put too much dried eggs in it . . ." Harry trailed off.

The three sat in silence for a few minutes before Remus started up a conversation on something he had seen in the muggle world the day earlier, a conversation that quickly changed to Harry and Remus talking about stupid or funny things they'd seen people do. Severus, though silent throughout most the conversation, gave a few short stories here and there when prompted. An hour and a half later, they walked the fifteen minutes to the restaurant and were seated with menus immediately. Harry looked over the menu as Remus talked.

- - - - – - - - -

Severus pretended to look over the menu – since he already knew what he wanted – as he listened to his son and Lupin talk with a sense of deja vu. Or maybe not that, but it felt strange, as if he didn't belong in the conversation. He didn't often feel like that as he did his best to avoid such situations – and this was probably the first time with his son around – and he was thinking that maybe it was just time for a small drink and sleep. Not that he needed something to help him sleep, but it would probably help him get things off his mind a little easier.

"I did want to wait until I felt completely better, but I'm thinking I'll go looking for a flat in London. I've already been offered a job, which I start in a month, so I should probably find one soon. A few days after this month's full moon, I suppose, would be the best time to start. You should come with me, Harry. Help me choose a decent place. It'll also give you an idea for what to look for when you start looking for your own places."

"Yeah," Harry said, the boy's green eyes brightening. "What sort of flat are you looking for? And which job did you get? The cook job?"

"No. Well, I was offered that job, but I took the office job instead. I was told it would be easy to get any days I want off, limited to a number during the month, of course, but it's useful. I could put in for a couple of days around the full moon each month and no one would bother to ask why."

"An office job? Doing what?" Harry asked and Severus gave him a glance, warning him not to be so rude.

Lupin shrugged. "Not entirely sure. I think partially keeping records straight and organizing events or meetings . . ." Lupin trailed off while Harry gave the man a disbelieving look. Lupin gave a laugh. "I know, not quite my strong point, is it? I've done something similar before, though, so they probably wanted me because of experience."

"Still, I thought you wanted something a bit more . . ." Harry trailed off, trying to think of a word.

"To do with something I like?"

"_Exciting_. Working in a restaurant would be fun, wouldn't it?"

"Not entirely. I just thought this was the best choice. I know I was thinking before about wanting a job in one of the restaurants, but I just feel like this place would suit me better. I don't think I have the patience to work at a food place for an extended amount of time, and I think I'd like to stay in London for longer than I usually stay in places."

"Right," Harry said, nodding, and Severus could tell his son didn't entirely believe that. "You still have the headache?"

"A little, Harry, but that has nothing to any of this." Lupin sounded rather annoyed.

"I know, I was just thinking that if you have it, you should think about going to see a mediwizard."

"I'll be _fine_, Harry," he said, his voice telling Harry to drop the conversation. Thankfully, a waitress came to take their orders before anyone could say another word, although Severus wanted to ask the werewolf how many jobs he's actually had over the years, despite knowing it was rude to ask such a thing in the manner he would have asked.

Not that it's stopped him before.

But Severus still found it a little strange. Lupin wasn't the type to settle down. From what he had heard, the werewolf rarely stayed in one place for longer than three years, although usually it was more like a year. To choose a more permanent job – in a large city, at that – was strange. It just simply wasn't a werewolf's nature to become settled in to a set lifestyle.

"So," Harry continued after the waitress had gone. "What sort of flat are you looking for?"

Severus tuned out the conversation, really just wanting to go to bed.

And wanting to know how his son and Lupin had gotten so close. Harry was talking with the man so freely, something he rarely did with Severus himself. He didn't want to admit it, but it made him uneasy, in a possessive sort of way.

It made him think those two would have never gotten so close if he hadn't been gone for nearly a month. Now he wished to had told Albus to find someone else for the job; surely there would have been _someone_ else capable of doing it.

As the food arrived and Severus found Harry and Lupin and gone onto another conversation topic – something about cats – Severus scolded himself silently when he realized what he was feeling as he began eating. Why he had gotten that sense of deja vu.

He knew he shouldn't be jealous, but that didn't help matters any, nor did he care. Harry was _his_. His son, his lifeline, his one last connection to a past he so much wanted to be a part of again.

As he looked up to see his son laughing at something with Lupin, a look of pure joy in his eyes, Severus knew he had to do whatever he could to be sure Harry would never leave and forget about him.

After dinner, Severus followed Lupin and Harry closing back to the flat, but once they got there, Severus stopped outside Lupin's door, just ready to go home. Lupin was the first to notice, him being the one holding the door. Harry stopped and turned after a few steps.

"Dad?" he asked.

"I'm going home," he answered. "I'd much like to go to bed."

"Okay," Harry nodded, sounding a little disappointed. Either that, or Severus was being wishful.

"Are you going to apparate?" Lupin asked, and after weighing his options, Severus nodded.

"I'll show you a safe place to apparate from. Best not to apparate from here. I did once; the woman below me thought I was using firecrackers inside. Thin walls. You can't hear normal talking but any big noises are definitely heard. Harry, could you start some water for tea?"

"Sure. Bye Dad. See you later tonight?"

"Probably not until tomorrow morning," Severus corrected and headed for the stairs, Lupin closing the door behind them. They walked in silence until they got outside, in a nook in a little alley beside the building.

"You've been awfully silent tonight," Lupin commented before Severus could apparate away.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I've been _awfully_ tired tonight," Severus snapped back before disapparating, not missing the confused look on the man's face.

– - - - -

The water was near-boiling by the time Remus came back, so Harry took out two large soup mugs – Remus' favorite type of cups to drink tea from – and Remus silently took out a container of tea and added some to two tea bags.

"So, what do you want to do tonight?" Remus asked as he poured hot water over the tea bags in each mug.

"I don't know," Harry answered. They sat staring at their tea for a little bit, and when Harry deemed his brewed, he added a couple teaspoons of sugar before taking a sip. "Do you have a video player? I haven't seen a movie in a few years."

"Video player?" Remus asked, looking slightly confused before he seemed to realize what Harry was asking. "I think so." Getting up, Harry followed Remus into his bedroom, where he kept his television, and the man pulled a box out of a drawer under the telly stand. "VHS," Remus mumbled.

"Yup, that's it," Harry answered, sitting down cross-legged on Remus's unmade bed. Remus never made his bed, something that just didn't seem adult-like to Harry. It was always the adults who wanted you to make your bed in the first place, wasn't it?

"I got it for a birthday present a few years ago from someone I worked with. Quite honestly, I didn't quite understand how to set it up."

"I could set it up for you," Harry said.

"Well, that would work. But I'm afraid I don't having any films for it."

"We could rent one," Harry pointed out, getting another confused look from Remus. Harry sighed and explained to Remus how to rent a movie. After a few minutes of discussing and debating, they did decided to rent something, but then it took about another hour to find a place that rented in the small town Remus lived in – it wasn't in the area where most the other stores were. Finally, after much more debate on what sort of movie to choose, they got a comedy that they thought didn't look stupid (Remus' choice) and an action film (Harry) and walked home. It was a lot darker out than it had been when they had arrived.

The next morning, Harry woke with a crick in his neck, on his stomach on Remus' bed. Slowly, he rose to his hands and knees and looked around. The telly was still on, but it showed nothing but a black screen. He didn't see Remus, so Harry assumed he was either up or sleeping on the couch. Rolling over, he rubbed his eyes before rolling off the bed and walking out of the bedroom.

"Want breakfast, Harry?" Remus asked from the sofa in the living room, in a nightshirt and lying on his back. Harry looked at the clock. It was nearly ten in the morning. He was glad it was Saturday.

"Sure," Harry answered and gave a laugh as Remus sat up, looking very groggy. "I'll make breakfast," he offered.

"I'll take a shower," Remus said to that. Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting down to eggs, sausage, toast and jam. Remus didn't have much else for breakfast in the flat, because Harry really would have preferred bacon. It was alright, though, because Harry ate most the eggs while Remus ate most the sausage.

"How did that last film end?" Harry asked after they both gobbled down their food in a manner-less fashion.

"Don't really remember," he said, standing up to collect the plates and leaving them in the sink. "I don't think there was much of a story to begin with, though." Harry laughed.

"Probably not."

After cleaning up – which only involved wiping off the kitchen table – the two became engrossed in another conversation that went easily from topic to topic.

"I need to drop something off at headquarters," Remus said, looking at the clock hours later and finding it to be 2 in the afternoon. "Did you want to come with?"

"I should see if Ryan's there. He has my notes for one of my potions. Or Hermione. Or Ron or Ginny . . ." he sighed.

"Too much to do?"

"Yeah. A little too much," Harry said, almost bitterly. Both feeling relaxed, they apparated to the backyard of headquarters and made their way to the front and entered. Ryan wasn't there, but he had left Harry's notes – and a few of his own – in the potions lab. Hermione wasn't there, but Ron was, who told him to owl Ginny about what he wanted her to do. They also made plans to meet up in a few days to catch up. Harry was surprised at how little he had seen of his friends aside from Remus during the past month.

It seemed that his summer wasn't going to be any more relaxing than the school year.


	31. 3: Missing

**Thanks excessivelyperky, Pulchra Vulpecula, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, hug-me, mrs severus snape, supergirl3684, witchsbroom, blue artemis, Hendrick248848, and karlii for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 7 – Missing**

Harry returned home at a quarter to seven, remembering as he walked through the floo that his father had probably expected him to be home that morning. Wanting to check in with Severus, he checked the kitchen and the potions lab, but he wasn't in either place, so before he stopped in his own room, he knocked on his dad's door.

And again.

After a third, louder time without an answer, he crossed continued down the hall to his own room, toed off his shoes and sat on his bed, stretching. It was only a few more minutes before he remembered he hadn't had dinner, but before he could stand, Severus was standing in his doorway.

"Where were you this morning?" he asked. Harry shrugged.

"Fell asleep while watching a movie at Remus'."

Severus nodded. "Hungry?" he asked.

Harry nodded this time.

"Good," his father replied with more energy than he had while asking where he had been. "I brought home food."

"Really?" Harry asked, standing up, and Severus nodded.

"I wanted something different. I brought some for you, in case you decided to show."

"Sorry," he said, feeling awful. Severus waved it off, though and Harry followed him silently down to the kitchen where there was a take out bag from a restaurant he didn't recognize on the table.

While he ate, Harry kept his eyes on his sandwich, feeling Severus watching him the entire time. It was unnerving and reminded him of that first summer they had lived together. It was obvious to Harry that he had done something that his father disapproved of.

_What did I do? _Harry wondered. He didn't seem upset over Harry not coming home last night – and that shouldn't matter anyway! He was seventeen, eighteen in a week. They didn't go over any 'house rules' but Harry was sure he was allowed to come and go as he pleased.

Once Harry finished his sandwich, he really had nowhere to look but up, so that's what he did. Severus wasn't watching him, but eating his own sandwich. He only looked up at Harry when he saw him moving.

"Do you miss muggle luxuries?" Severus asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"You lived most your life as a muggle. Do you not miss muggle things at all? Like the television."

"A little," Harry replied without thinking about it. He had to admit, it was fun and relaxing to just sit and watch a movie, as plot-less and brainless they seemed to be. "But even now, I don't have much time to watch. And Remus has a telly, so I could watch at his house if I wanted to."

Severus nodded slowly.

"If you would like something muggle in the house, you just have to say so," Severus said. "Although we don't have access to any electricity, it isn't illegal to magically adjust how it receives its power . . ." his father trailed off.

"It's fine, really," Harry assured him, wondering why Severus brought it up. "If we had one, I'd probably watch it when I should be doing something else, anyway."

Severus nodded. He looked as if he was going to say something, but he paused.

"Are you going with Lupin to look for a new flat?"

Harry nodded after a moment.

"Looking for ideas?" Severus asked.

After a few more moments, Harry shifted uncomfortably and shook his head.

"Just helping Remus," he answered. "It'll be fun helping him choose a new place to live. I'll probably help him move in, too. He wants a little bigger place, this time. Three bedrooms, instead of the one he usually gets."

"Did he say why?" Severus asked.

"No," Harry replied, sensing something not-too-kind in his father's voice. "Why?"

"No particular reason. When a person changes from the usual, there is usually a reason."

Harry shrugged.

"Maybe he just wants to spread out more. He has a lot of books. Maybe he wants to make a small library."

Severus nodded, and Harry wondered why his father was so curious as to what Remus was doing. Sure they got along – mostly. Still didn't help him understand why Severus was so interested in the ex-professor right now."

"I think it's good that he wants to move in somewhere permanently," Harry said, suddenly feeling protective of his friend. "He'll have a full time, nicely paid job, a nice flat . . . he'll be able to buy things he wants in addition to those he needs . . ."

Harry looked angrily at his father, who was looking back at him with a blank face.

"I was not intending to make you angry," his father said as an apology, but Harry didn't answer.

"I have work to do," Harry said suddenly. "I want to get a working potion to the headmaster by tomorrow evening."

Harry barely noticed Severus nod as he stood up.

"I will not be using the lab tonight, so you are free to . . ."

Harry didn't hear the rest of what his father said as he was already out of the kitchen and on his way to the potions lab.

- - - - - - -

Despite Harry's claim to wanting to get his potions done, he had not done a bit of work Saturday night. Instead, he sat in the lab, sulking, yet looking back, he didn't have much idea as to why. He had been angry, yeah, but there, too, he couldn't quite place why. It wasn't as if Severus had been saying anything bad about Remus.

Even foregoing Saturday night as a evening of work, Harry managed to – barely – produce a working potion and present it the headmaster Sunday.

Nearly a week later, though, he was feeling great because he and Remus were going to look at flats and – if you could believe it – houses to see if any were of interest to him.

Even the sadness caused by him and Severus being on iffy terms for the past week was dulled at the thought.

It was _exciting_. Not like a near-death-plummet barely controllable on a broom from high in the sky to the ground exciting, but . . . first day of school exciting. Something he hadn't felt since he and Severus moved into the manor.

Yet, it was still different. He couldn't quite place a finger on how, though.

He was going by Knight Bus to Remus', and then they were going to apparate to a nearby town that had a train station and then take the train to London as neither really wanted to apparate that far and Remus hated the Knight Bus and avoided when he could. The Knight Bus, as usual during the day, wasn't quite full and Harry managed to make it to Remus' quicker than he thought.

Stopping in front of Remus' door, Harry knocked a few raps quickly, thinking that Remus would be getting ready, possibly eating a late breakfast.

Not getting an answer, he knocked louder, slower. Still no answer.

Checking the time, he saw he was definitely there earlier than he said he would be, so he thought the Remus might be in the middle of something or was out for the moment. Or he might still not be feeling well from the full moon. Some months _were_ worse than others. Thinking that must the be the case, he dug through his pockets and finally pulled out the key Remus gave him 'just in case'.

Remus _was_ expecting him, in any case, so Harry letting himself in wouldn't be a problem.

Inside, the flat was how it typically was; messy in the kitchen, and sort of empty everywhere else, aside from the piles of books that were shoved up against the walls and on tables.

"Remus?" Harry asked, closing the door behind himself. "You here?" Not getting an answer, Harry went to the bedroom, knocked and slowly opened the door. Nothing out of place there, unless you considered the unmade bed out-of-place.

_Huh_, Harry thought to himself, not quite sure what to do. Hoping that Remus went out for a little bit, or was checking the muggle mail, Harry sat awkwardly on the couch and waited.

Fifteen minutes later, he was starting to get worried. Remus had known Harry was coming today, and the man was never more than a few minutes late to anything. The thing was, Harry had no idea where to start looking for him. He was completely drawing a blank on what to do now.

No longer able to just sit and wait, Harry stood and began pacing. When that got old, he began cleaning the kitchen by hand – he filled the sink with soap and hot water and began wiping down the counter and table while he was waiting. When he went to wash the dishes, they looked as if they hadn't been touched in a few days, the food all hard on the plates and starting to smell, so Harry scrapped as much of the food off as he could and let the dishes soak.

Not being able to do anything else in the kitchen, Harry was tempted to start straightening the books out when he heard a ring. It took his confused brain a moment to recognize it as the telephone, but when he did, he answered the phone hesitantly.

"Remus Lupin," the bloke on the other end asked.

"Er . . . no, this is a friend."

"Put him on, please," the guy said gruffly.

"I . . ." Harry wasn't sure what to say. "I'm not entirely sure where he is."

He heard the man sigh.

"When you see him, tell him to call the library. He missed his shift yesterday."

"Oh . . . er . . . right. I'll tell him," Harry said and hung up the phone without saying anything else, part of him wishing he never answered it. Even more worried now than every, Harry was about to apparate from that spot to home to get Severus, not caring if the neighbors heard, but his concentration was thwarted when there was a loud, angry knocking at the door. He wasn't going to answer it when he heard a familiar voice near-yelling through the closed door.

"Remus, you answer this door this moment! You are going to explain yourself or else you'll –."

Harry opened the door.

"Harry!" Tonks said, her anger temporarily forgotten. "What'cha doing here?" Harry shrugged and her voice went dark again and her eyes got this scary glint. "Where's Remus?"

"I don't _know_," he answered, wondering what Remus had done to Tonks to get her so angry and Harry not wanting to be on the receiving end it. "Apparently he didn't show up for work yesterday, and we were supposed to go looking for a flat for him today . . ."

"What?" she asked. "He missed work? I thought he was just standing me up." Harry gave her a confused look. "We were supposed to go out for dinner yesterday, like we do most Friday nights." she paused, probably thinking, while Harry tried to sort out what Remus hadn't told him. And _why _Remus hadn't told him. _No wonder he was never available on Fridays_, he thought. "He's looking for a new place? Why?"

"Er . . ." Harry answered. Tonks still had that dangerous look in her eye and he didn't really want to make her angry. "I don't know why, really. He wants to move to London."

"Why the little . . ." she responded as Harry asked her, "Are you two dating?"

"Did he say why?" Tonks asked and Harry shook his head quickly.

"No. Well, he's got a new job there that's starting in about a month, but I'm not sure why he wanted to move to London."

"Damn," she said, looking around. "Have you touched anything?"

"I started cleaning the kitchen while I was waiting. The dishes hadn't been touched in a few days . . ."

"Anything else?"

"I was sitting on the couch. And I answered the phone . . ."

"Who was it?"

"The library, wondering where he was."

"And the last time you talked?"

"Wednesday morning, before the full moon."

Tonks nodded. "I'm going to check in with the Ministry, just to make sure nothing's happened. Could you check at St. Mungo's? Don't let them give you an 'I can't tell you,' for an answer, alright, Harry?"

"Right," Harry answered, nodding.

"We'll meet at your house. Are there any protections on your floo?"

"Yeah, but you'll be let through," Harry answered and they left, Harry making sure he locked the door after he closed it.

- - - - -

Severus stepped through the floo into the living room, gently put down the bags he was carrying and sat on the sofa. He had to admit, despite the small part of him that wanted his son to stay away from the werewolf, that Harry spending that day with Lupin was good timing. With Harry's birthday the next day, it was a good day to finalize everything.

He wasn't entirely sure if Harry would like the gifts he bought as he had a lot of trouble thinking of something. Before Harry, he hadn't had to buy a gift for anyone and it had felt as if there was nothing else to get the boy.

But he wasn't just a boy anymore, he was an adult. There wasn't much along the lines of practical gifts to give him because he wasn't moving out of the house yet, childish gifts – the easiest to find – didn't seem appropriate, and Harry wasn't a huge fan of books, despite his recent obsession with learning.

In Severus' mind, there was little else useful as gifts.

He was planning to just sit and think for a few more minutes when the floo flared and he had to quickly put a disillusionment charm on the bags of gifts. He wanted certain things about tomorrow to be a surprise. Much to his surprise, though, it wasn't Harry who dropped through the floo, but Tonks.

"Oh, hi," she said once she managed to pick herself up off the floor after tripping over her own feet.

Severus sat back down. "What you are doing here?" he asked, trying to not sound too rude.

"Oh, Harry's went to the hospital, so–."

"What?" Severus interjected, alarmed.

"Oh, no, he's not _in_ the hospital!" Tonks quickly clarified. "He went to see if Remus was there. I went to check in with the Ministry, but nothing's turned up."

"Remus . . ." Severus asked hesitantly.

"He's missing! Didn't show up yesterday for work or dinner, and it looks as if he hadn't been at his flat for the past few days."

"Oh," he answered, not quite sure what to say.

"If nothing turns up soon, we'll file a missing persons report." Tonks started pacing around the room, all jittery and tripping every few steps.

"Ms. Tonks," Severus said, trying to get her attention.

"Yeah," she said, but he could tell she wasn't answering to him.

"Ms. Tonks," he said louder, and she turned to him suddenly, twisting her hands, a frightened look in her eyes. Instead of saying what he planned to say, he changed.

"Er . . . what? What did you say?"

Severus sighed. "You are acting unbecoming of an auror."

"I . . . I know. But . . . we were never trained in . . . situations like these."

"You've never been trained in missing person cases?"

"Well . . . yeah, we have but . . . ugh. Look . . ." Tonks trailed off. Severus, getting at least part of the drift, stood, led her to the kitchen and sat her down after he pulled out a chair. Magically boiling a cup of water, he grabbed a bag of chamomile tea and set both in front of the distraught woman. When she paid the tea no mind, Severus set the tea bag in the water and watched it brew for a couple of minutes before taking it out and shoving the cup under her nose. She took it absentmindedly.

That finished, he walked to the other end of the table and sat, not knowing what to do next. Well, he knew what he should do. Keep her talking. It's what Dumbledore would have said to be the best thing.

Severus didn't do small talk, though. He proved even with his son it was something that never came out correctly. Thankfully, he was saved from trying when Harry walked in the room, spotting Tonks immediately.

"He's not there," Harry answered. "I had them double check the records and had a search through the entire building in case he was waiting." Harry stood there, waiting for a response, but when he didn't get one, Severus concluded that Harry understood Lupin wasn't where Tonks had looked.

- - - -

"How long have you two been together?" Harry asked. After he left the hospital with nothing, Harry went back to Remus' flat to look it over – hoping that Remus was there – remembering that Tonks never actually looked through the rooms. Everything was how he left it, so he started looking for any clues in Remus' bedroom. There was nothing indicating a reason why he wasn't there, but there was something there that startled him immensely.

To Harry, it was proof enough for him to conclude that Remus and Tonks were dating. The question running through Harry's head was, though, why didn't Remus tell him? They had seen each other several times a week for the past month, but the man didn't even _hint _he was seeing anyone.

Harry tried to tell himself there must have been a good reason, but quite honestly, he couldn't think of any reason to keep it a secret. Especially not if it's serious.

"A year. And a half," she answered sullenly. "About. It was complicated at first," she said, so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear.

Harry was torn with so many feelings, he couldn't stay in the room any longer. He turned and left.

- - - - - - -

Remus didn't show up for the rest of the day. In the evening, a few people from the ministry showed up, asked a bunch of questions, and left.

Harry didn't sleep at all that night, and when he managed to pick himself up from the sofa in the living room, Remus still wasn't found.

- - - - -

Severus didn't get much sleep during the night. He kept waking up to check on Harry, who still hadn't left the couch. Tonks had left late in the evening to check in with a few of her friends, leaving Severus alone with a son he had no idea what to do with.

In his free time, Severus wrapped Harry's gifts and set them below the window in his bedroom. That way, Severus decided, that when Harry felt up to going to bed, he would have a surprise for him.

Severus wasn't happy that Lupin had gone missing. Of course he wasn't. Lupin was a decent, intelligent man who, when he wasn't being insufferably annoying, was good to sit with. He was also close to Harry, and Severus never wanted Harry to go through something like this.

But at the same time, _he was close to Harry_. Severus knew it shouldn't bother him, but it did. For more than one reason, and right now, one of those reasons happened to be that Harry would have no interest in celebrating his birthday.

Severus had been looking forward to spending the day with his son, something he hadn't been able to do in a long time.

Severus couldn't help but wonder if that made him a terrible person.


	32. 3: Revelations

**Thanks to ****ReganBaxter, rosie3107, JWOHPfan, Musical Jelmo, Musical Jelmo, blue artemis, Utena-Puchiko-nyu, mrs severus snape, WolfSinKyros, supergirl3684, and karlii ****for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 8 - Revelations**

Sunday afternoon, he hadn't eaten, slept or changed clothes despite Severus' attempts to persuade him. Tired of just sitting around the house, Harry yelled out to Severus that he was going to Diagon Alley for a short while before flooing to the Leaky Cauldron. He looked around the dining area to see if anyone he knew was eating and he saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in a corner, two of them eating with plates piled in the middle of the table. Malfoy saw him and smirked, giving a small wave and Harry turned to leave without acknowledging him.

As he was leaving, the woman in front of him seemed to be in a hurry as she nearly ran out of the door, dropping some piece of paper as she did. Quickly picking it up, he called after her, with no success. Once she was out the door, she had picked up speed and turned off the alley onto a side street.

Sighing, he decided he would just turn it in to the Leaky Cauldron main desk, but he absentmindedly turned it over to see what it was.

And dropped it.

It was a few more minutes standing before he could bring himself to pick up the photograph and examine it.

_Why would someone in the wizarding world have a picture of the Dursleys?_ he asked himself. There, in his hand, was a picture he knew so well of his muggle relatives: Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon sitting in the back with Dudley between them in the front, all three dressed in their best Sunday clothes.

It was the picture that had hung above the fireplace at 4 Privet Drive.

Turning around, Harry made a decision. Although it was Sunday, he knew Shacklebolt would be in or near his office until at least five, so he though it would be best to consult the man. Although Harry was telling himself it was merely a coincidence, in the back of his head, he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

Like Harry predicted, Shacklebolt was in his office. The man was engrossed in something, so Harry sat down unnoticed across from him. It was about ten minutes later when Shacklebolt greeted him.

"What brings you here on a Sunday afternoon?" he asked and Harry slid the picture across the desk to his mentor.

"Someone dropped this in front of me. In Diagon Alley."

"Do you know who?" Shacklebolt examined the photograph.

Harry shook his head. "She was blonde. Short. And she was running. She had several other things in her arms, though." Harry paused. "Could it be coincidence?"

"It could be," he answered, giving the photograph back. "If you don't know who dropped it, it could have been a journalist. Or possibly someone who is collecting information on your for nothing but their own pleasure." Harry made a face, which Shacklebolt smiled at. "Do you recognize the photograph?"

Harry nodded. "One the same size was above the fireplace," he answered.

"Do the Dursley's have any other wizarding relatives?"

"N. . . er . . . Aunt Marge said there's some wizards on her side."

Shacklebolt nodded.

"Well," he said after a moment. "I think this is a good start for a practice investigation."

"Practice?" Harry asked. "So you think it's nothing."

"No, I think there is something," he said, standing. "But as an auror, you take nothing as coincidence."

Harry nodded. "Where do I start?"

"With your Aunt Marge."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat before rising.

After leaving the Ministry, Harry headed home, apparating and taking his time walking to the door. Inside, he found Severus in the living room, just sort of sitting there.

"Dad?" Severus looked up, looking as if he was nearly falling asleep.

"Harry." Severus looked at him closer. "Are you alright?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know."

"Is something wrong?"

'I don't know . . . maybe."

Silence, for a few moments, as Harry looked pitifully down at the ground, feeling foolish, and Severus visually examining him, waiting for something.

"What happened?" Severus asked, sounding irritated.

"I need to see Aunt Marge," he answered. "Someone dropped a picture of the Dursleys in front of me. In Diagon Alley. Shacklebolt wants me to start an investigation. As practice, you know."

"So, you are going to see Dursley."

"Need to see if she would know anything about it, I guess. He said that's where I should start."

Severus nodded. "I'm not doing anything at the moment. Would you like me to come?"

"Would you?" Harry asked, and Severus nodded again. Harry smiled in relief before he noticed his father looking at him.

"Perhaps you should bathe and dress for a new day," he suggested. "I doubt that Dursley would appreciate you arriving to question her ill suited for the day."

"Er . . . yeah. That'd probably be best."

- - - - -

Severus watched as his son managed his way out of the room and up the stairs, following at a distance. When he saw Harry enter the bathroom, he decided to change into decent calling clothes himself. He was surprised that when he left the room, Harry was out of the bathroom already, and Severus followed the dressed young man to the bedroom – he must have had clean clothes somewhere in the bathroom – and paused himself when Harry stopped in the doorway. Harry turned slowly to look at him.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Severus said quietly and a haunted look appeared in his eyes.

"I . . . thanks," he replied before grabbing his shoes and dashing down the stairs.

- - - - -

As they stood outside Aunt Marge's door, Harry kept looking over his shoulder. He told himself there was no reason to, but he just had a horrible feeling.

Too long standing in front of the door, Aunt Marge herself opened the door.

"I'm terribly sorry for the wait, my . . . oh," she said. "This is rather unexpected."

"Hello, Aunt Marge," Harry answered.

"Ms. Dursley," Severus said distantly.

"Well, come in, come in," she said, waving them in. Harry stepped over a few dogs to get far enough into the entrance way, glad that his father was staying close. "So, what brings you two here? No more trouble at school, I hope."

"No . . ."

"Well, let's not talk here in the entry way. Go to the parlor and I'll bring in some tea. I was heating water, anyway. I'll add some more." When Aunt Marge left the room, Harry and Severus made their way to the small parlor and sat down. Harry didn't think Severus saw the small glances he gave him, but Harry sort of wished Severus _would_ look at him. Now that they were out of the house, he felt bad about not taking a bit of time to open the presents Severus got for him. Or, at least he assumed Severus got them for him. It was just that at the time, Harry couldn't believe he was thinking about his birthday at a time like this. Remus was missing!

"Now," Aunt Marge said, coming into the room and setting the tea tray on the table in the middle. "What have you been up to lately, Harry?"

For some reason, Harry nearly cringed when Aunt Marge called him Harry.

"I graduated Hogwarts. Now, I'm working on becoming an auror."

"An auror?"

"They're Dark Wizard hunters, mostly."

"Ah, good work for a boy like you then, I must say. What brings you here?"

"Well, I was wondering . . . you see, I was in Diagon Alley today, but someone – a running lady with blonde hair – dropped a photo of Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley in front of me. The one that was above the fireplace?"

"Oh, yes, a good photo. Well, it must have been a copy because I . . . well, that's odd," she said, trailing off from what she was originally going to say. "I had it hanging there."

"Did you have any visitors lately who could have taken it?" Harry asked, scrounging for things to ask. Honestly, he had no idea how to run an investigation. The only idea he had of an investigation was on those cop TV shows Uncle Vernon would sometimes watch.

"No, no," she said, shaking her head.

"Maybe you gave it away to a relative?"

"Wouldn't have done that, boy," she said, standing up. "Oh, dear. Do you have the photo?"

"Er . . yeah," he said, pulling it out of the bag he brought along, making sure not to bend it. He handed it over to her.

"That's it, alright," she said, once she looked at it. "But the frame's . . . oh. Oh, dear. Time for dinner. Must be going."

Harry looked at her strange. It wasn't time for dinner. "Aunt Marge."

"I really must insist you go now," she said.

"Alright, we'll go," Harry said, not wanting to say anything to anger her. The look in her eye wasn't quite right. "Can you tell me where we can find your other magical relatives?"

Aunt Marge didn't argue or say anything as she wrote down a few addresses.

"Now, leave, please," she said. She didn't bother making sure they left as she left the room, not looking back.

"That was odd," Harry said out loud. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. Let's leave, as she requested."

"Wait, I want to look around," Harry said. "She was acting weird, maybe someone–."

"Do you know what to look for?" Severus asked flatly and after a moment, Harry shook his head. "Then let's leave. Wait to see what Auror Shacklebolt says." Harry reluctantly allowed Severus to pull him from the room.

He could no longer hope that finding the picture wasn't coincidence. And he wanted to find out what was going on. The thing was, his father was correct – he had no idea what to do next.

They took the Knight Bus home, Severus not wanting to apparate, and there not being any fireplaces connected to the floo, as far as they knew, near by. They were both quiet on the way home, Harry wondering what exactly was going on. On their walk home from the bus stop, Harry began talking aloud, hoping that his dad would tell him if his thoughts were off.

"There must have been a sort of spell on the photo. Well, maybe talking about her relatives reminded her she was having company over so she had to make dinner early . . . But that doesn't make much sense, does it? Maybe it's connected to Remus being missing. I should ask Shacklebolt to get someone to watch her house in case she disappears, too, although I don't think Remus was acting strange when I saw him earlier, before the full moon. He was rather excited, though, to be getting a new job and moving to London. He'd be able to get connected to the floo if he lived in a flat in London. Something about . . . I don't know. Remus said it, but I forgot really." Harry paused as they come to the front door and Severus opened it magically. "I can't believe he didn't tell me he and Tonks were dating! And it wasn't as if it wouldn't have come into the conversation at all. We've talked about girls plenty, but he's never even mentioned Tonks, much less said anything about going out with someone."

Harry gave a huff. "I don't know. Dad?" Severus nodded, but otherwise did not acknowledge him. "Do you think Voldemort took him?"

"It's a possibility," he answered. "I'm going to bed. Do not wake me for supper."

"Alright," Harry nodded, thinking that sounded like a good idea. Had he even gotten any sleep last night? Toeing his shoes off before following his father upstairs, Harry turned into the bathroom and changed into pajamas, throwing the clothes he had been wearing on the floor to deal with tomorrow.

Back in his room, Harry eyed the pile of presents. Strangely enough, he was now curious as to what Severus had gotten him. Really, it was only his second birthday that Severus had acknowledged, and last summer, Severus had let him choose several books and took him out to eat. Well, there was also that party, but Harry wasn't sure whether or not his father planned it or was just in charge of getting him there.

Harry shook his head. He'd wait until Severus was with him before he opened any of them.

Harry had slept the Sunday evening and though the night, but at about 3 in the morning he woke up suddenly from something he couldn't explain. It took him a moment to realize his scar was stinging slightly. Thinking that's what woke him, he pushed back his covers and made his way across the landing for his father room to tell him, making sure he was occluding to the best of his ability. It wasn't until he knocked and was about the open the bedroom door when he realized that someone was pounding on the door very loudly downstairs. Confused, Harry wondered why they didn't just floo in when he rembered Severus always locked the floo during the night so no one could enter. Halfway down the stairs, he heard his father opened the door and follow him.

Checking through the one way window in the door to see who it was, Harry opened it immediately.

"They found him. St. Mungos." That said, Tonks disapparated. Harry nearly followed suit when Severus stopped him.

"Do I have to remind you to get dressed again?" he asked, and Harry shook his head. "Good."

Harry got dressed and ran downstairs, nearly falling down them, and found Severus had unlocked the floo.

Nothing was amiss at St. Mungos. Some people were rushing about, some crying, some obviously hexed, but for the most part, quiet. Finding that this irritated him, Harry went to the front desk and was directed to a waiting room where Tonks was pacing at too high of a pace.

"What happened?" Harry asked urgently.

"They don't know."

"Is he hurt?"

"He doesn't remember anything."

"Nothing?" Harry asked, stunned. Was he obliviated?

"I don't _know_. They won't tell me anything. You get us in."

"What?"

"Get us in. The assistant healer who was talking to me, he sounded very excited when I said I was going to talk to you. He'll let you in, and you'll bring me in," she said, sounding very sure of herself. Sounding very bossy. Or worried.

And Harry balked at the idea. He'd never tried to get in anywhere because he was THE Harry Potter. It didn't seem right. In the end, though, his need to see Remus out-won his sense of right at the moment and he went to talk to the wizard Tonks pointed to.

"Ah, excuse me?" Harry asked and the wizard looked up from his clipboard, saw his face and the man's eyes immediately moved up the his forehead. Thankfully, his fringe was still short enough to keep over his forehead without getting in his eyes.

"Yes?" The man asked. It was obvious he wasn't recognized without the charm him mother put on him that made him look like James Potter. Harry was thankful for that, but he pushed himself forward.

"I'm Harry Potter. I've come here to see my friend, Remus Lupin?"

"Oh, yes," the man said, his eyes lighting. "I'm Healer George Appleton. I will go see if Mr. Lupin is ready for company at this time."

While Appleton left the waiting room, Harry waved Tonks over. As the man came back, he was about to say something when he noticed Tonks was there and stopped as if he had not expected that at all. "Both of you?" he asked, and Harry nodded. "Oh, alright," he answered with hesitation. "He says he feels fine, so go ahead. We have to keep an eye out, though, so someone will be watching."

Tonks ran ahead and Harry followed at a pace not much slower than that of the auror's. Inside the room, Remus was sitting on one of the beds near the back of the large room, looking desolate until he saw Tonks come into the room and Harry saw his friend's eyes light up. Harry stayed back, standing in the doorway and watched as the couple hugged and talked quietly between themselves. After a few minutes, their unheard conversation appeared to change to Tonks interrogating Remus, then Tonks yelling at Remus and finally back to conversation again. As the two were talking, Remus glanced at the doorway and Harry locked eyes with him. After a minute, Remus said something to Tonks and she nodded hugged him and them came back toward Harry.

"He wants to talk to you," she told him and once Tonks left the room, Harry walked across the room.

"Hello, Harry," he said.

"Hi, Remus," Harry answered, standing a few feet away. "How are you?"

"I feel find," he answered, with a shrug.

"Tonks said before that you didn't remember anything?"

Remus shook his head. "Not since the full moon. Everything since the morning after is . . . missing. Has anything happened. Everyone's been refusing to say anything."

"Other than you going missing? No. Or . . . well, yeah, actually. Someone dropped a photo of the Dursleys in front of me in Diagon Alley. I brought it to Aunt Marge, you know – Uncle Vernon's sister – and as soon as she touched it, she shooed us out of there because she was insisting she had to make dinner."

Remus nodded and Harry brought himself to sit down on the bed alongside his friend.

"So, I assume she told you?"

"Huh?" Harry asked.

"Tonks told you that we were together?"

"Oh, yeah. That. Yeah, she did." They sat for a few minutes more until Harry couldn't keep quiet anymore. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Remus shrugged. "I . . . I guess I still feel like she'll realize it's too dangerous to be around me."

"What do you mean? You only change once a month, and with the potion . . ."

"It took her quite a while to convince me that she really wanted to be with me," Remus elaborated. "It took me a long time to be convinced that she didn't care that I was a werewolf." He shook his head. "I don't want to lose her," he whispered.

"She's not going to leave you," Harry said. "She was horribly depressed since she learned you were missing. Not like Tonks at all, let me tell you."

Again, they sat in silence. "I want to ask her to marry me," he finally said. "I didn't want to tell you until I was sure she was going to say yes. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect, but now . . ."

"What?"

"Maybe it _is _too dangerous."

"Too dangerous? Remus, she's an auror! She knows the ramifications of these things _before_ she goes into them. And I'm sure she's not going to let something like this _or_ . . ." Harry looked around, "your problem get the best of her. And you shouldn't either." When that still didn't look like Remus was convinced, Harry sighed. "And besides, you already got the right, right? So ask her!"

Harry didn't know why he was pushing for him and Tonks to stay together, but for some reason, the idea of Remus getting married excited him. And he had no idea why, since he typically thought weddings were boring and not fun at all.

Remus nodded, but Harry could tell he was still hesitant. He tried to remember if Remus was always this self-conscious. Their conversation was halted when Healer Appleton walked to them.

"I looked over the results from testing," the healer said once Remus was looking at him. "At first we thought you were obliviated, but the form isn't right. Do you know if you touched anything peculiar, or ate anything different while you had been transformed?"

Remus shook his head. "I ate nothing that night. I transformed back and . . . then nothing."

The healer nodded and wrote something on his clipboard. "Well, then, we'll look more into it. I believe we've done all the testing we needed, so you are free to go. I suggest not being by yourself, though."

"You can stay at the manor," Harry said immediately.

"Then that's where we'll contact you if we need you here." The healer left and Remus stood up. Harry following suit.

"I should go home to pick up some things, if you don't mind," Remus said and Harry agreed. Before they started walking, Remus stopped him from moving by grabbing his arm. "How did you know about the ring?"

Harry suddenly felt guilty. "Tonks and I were searching your flat for something that might explain where you were and I came across it."

"Does she know?"

Harry shook his head, feeling better at his friends' obvious relief, and they left.


	33. 3: Burnt

**Thanks to ****excessivelyperky, witchsbroom, karlii, supergirl3684, blue artemis, WolfSinKyros, mizz-shy-gurl, mrs severus snape, rosie3107, and ReganBaxter ****for the reviews. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I missed anyone.**

**Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling. Any other characters you don't recognize are mine, as boring and typical they may be.**

**Chapter 9 - Burnt**

At Remus' flat, Harry waited in the kitchen – finishing the cleaning he had started before – while Remus went to his bedroom to pack.

"What is today?" Remus asked, calling from the bedroom as Harry finished putting away the clean dishes.

"Monday," Harry yelled back.

"The first?"

"Yup. Need any help?"

"No, I'll be fine, Harry."

"Alright," Harry mumbled and fell onto the couch on his stomach. Remus came into the room five minutes later. "Oh, the library called, wondering where you were on Saturday."

Remus nodded. "I'll call them back later and tell them I was in the hospital. That should do. Ready?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, not getting up. "When are you going to ask her?"

"What?"

"Tonks. You're going to ask her to marry you, right?" Remus nodded. "When are you going to do it?"

"After I start my other job, I suppose. I want her to know I'm serious."

Harry nodded slowly before breaking into a huge grin. "Glad you're back, Remus," he said, and Remus gave him a small smile back.

They apparated to the front door of the manor as Harry didn't like to apparate into the house and they let themselves in.

"Dad?" Harry called, but there was no answer.

"He's probably in bed, Harry."

"Yeah."

"Don't you have to be at the Ministry tomorrow?"

"I'm not tired. I was thinking that maybe if Dad was still awake, I could just open my presents now. I don't think he was too happy that I didn't open them before."

"Why d . . . oh."

"Yeah," Harry said.

"You're home," Severus said, almost lifelessly, from the stairs.

"Yeah. I brought Remus, too," Harry answered, walking toward him. "They said it wasn't best for him to be alone. Are you going to be awake for awhile?

"I don't see myself going back to sleep in the near future," his father answered.

"Er . . . do you want me to open my presents now? I'm not tired, either."

"It is up to you when you decide to open them."

"Well, I thought you'd want to be there," Harry mumbled and he heard Severus sigh.

"Now's as good as a time as any. Go on."

Harry was halfway up the stairs when he remembered Remus. "Hey Remus!" he called. "Were you tired, or did you want to come watch?"

"I'll come watch," Remus said, stepping forward. "I have a present for you as well." The man set his bag down and pulled out a gift wrapped box.

"Great," Harry answered, and finished running up the stairs. The other two were much slower in following. For the first time, Harry really looked at the pile of presents. For the first time awhile, he felt excited. This was the first time he had ever got a good look at the pile. It wasn't as much as first glance had told him, but it was still more than he had ever gotten at one time. Some small part of his brain was telling him not to be so childish, but he couldn't help it has he knelt down and weighed one in his hands. Three of them had envelopes attached but the rest did. He assumed those were from his father.

He opened those from Hermione, Ron and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley first. Hermione gave him a muggle game – one Harry had never heard of, but a quick glance told him it'd probably make him think a lot – Ron gave him a book on wizarding card games and the Weasleys sent him an alarm clock (heard about those few days he overslept, obviously) and some bread pudding with a freshness charm.

Severus and Remus must have taken their time walking to his room because they still weren't there after he had finished opening those.

"Dad? Remus? You coming?" He was going to stand up and find them, but they came into the room, Remus following Severus.

"I see you've started already," Severus drawled, sitting on the bed while Remus pulled a chair next to the wardrobe.

"Those were from the Weasleys and Hermione," he answered picking up the smallest of the remaining presents, which really wasn't that small. It felt like a book. He looked up and his dad with a huge grin and he could have sworn the man rolled his eyes. He unwrapped it to reveal a book on how to sketch. Harry gave a happy laugh. He honestly never thought about getting a book on that before. The remaining presents from his father were a few sketchbooks, a bunch of shrunk canvases, paints, pastels, pencils and a few other how-to art books. There was also a camera and a bunch of stuff to set up a dark room. Harry sat there, flabbergasted. There was so much. It felt like almost too much.

"Dad . . . I . . . thanks. This is . . . so much."

"I suppose I had a few birthdays to make up. And you deserve it, with all you've done."

"One more, Harry," Remus said after a few moments of silence, throwing the present to him. Harry shot him another smile and opened it. _Everything to Know About_ . . . Harry felt his face get red, getting a laugh from Remus.

"I . . . er . . . well . . ." Harry cleared his throat, covering the book up with the wrapping paper, causing Remus to laugh harder.

"Sirius gave me a similar book when I was your age. I had quite the same reaction you did."

Severus glanced at Remus before holding out his hand, obviously wanting to see what had gotten him so worked up. Keeping the book covered, Harry handing it over. The potions master glanced at it before giving Remus an irritated glare. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Harry," he said.

"Good night, Dad. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Once Severus was gone, Remus picked up the book off the bed and handed it to Harry, a mischievous smile on his face. Harry felt his face get red again.

"Harry, you're eighteen. You'll enjoy it, I promise you. Anyway, I'm going to bed. Same room as before?"

"Yeah, that works. It should be how you left it. Thanks, Remus."

Remus smiled at him before leaving, closing the door behind him. Tentatively, Harry flipped open the front cover, glancing at the door and hoping Remus wouldn't jump back into the room to catch him. He flipped though a few pages before setting the book aside in favor of going through his new art things. He had to be at training in a few hours, so looking through that book wouldn't be such a good idea at the moment.

* * *

It was a few moments before Remus realized he was awake and a few more before he remembered he was at Harry's home. Rubbing his eyes, he got out of bed, dressed and headed down the stairs slowly, slightly sore and wondering why.

Forgetting where the kitchen was, he stopped at the bottom of the stairs to think. Seeing movement, he looked up.

"Severus," he greeted, but the man didn't answer. Severus Snape was looking at him darkly, making Remus uncomfortable. _Does he not want me here?_ Remus asked himself. He hadn't seemed angry about it before he had went to bed, but he supposed it was possible the professor changed his mind. The man was prone to doing that when nothing else suited him. Quite honestly, though, Remus wasn't sure where to go from there. Any other place he usually encountered him, he could be polite and walk away.

But since he was in the man's house, half of that wasn't truly an option.

And even more unnerving, Snape wasn't looking away.

And all Remus could to was stare back.

"You're still here," Snape finally said.

"Yes, I am."

Remus was out of things to say. And he still didn't know what to do.

_Finally_, the man said something.

"Fine," Snape said and brushed passed him on the way upstairs. Sighing, Remus went into the room Snape had come out of and found the kitchen. The professor didn't leave him alone long, though; as Remus was sitting down, Snape came back into the kitchen and stood in the doorway.

"Is something the matter, Severus?" Remus asked. He really wanted to start eating. He was _hungry_.

Snape didn't answer at first, but when he did, his voice was forceful. "_Yes_." Remus waited for him to continue. He didn't.

"What is the matter?"

"_You_," he said. "You and . . . _my_ son."

"I don'–."

"He's _mine_. We're doing fine, then I leave for a month and come back and I find you've _taken him from me!_"

Remus was sure Snape was going to burst something. Uncomfortable sitting down, he stood again, moving behind the chair.

"I don't know wha–."

"What are you getting at, getting a long term job and a permanent flat and asking him to _look at houses with you_. You've never settled down before, and all of a sudden, you're trying real hard to stay in one place! At first, I thought it was because of that Tonks girl, but _where_ did you go when you needed a place to stay? _Here_. And she calls here in the morning wondering if Harry knew where you went–." Remus felt himself pale – "If you think you're going to take _my _son aw–."

"I'–." Snape didn't let him finish. Instead, the Slytherin was in his face, one hand griping his robe violently. "He's _my_ son, Lupin. Not _Potters_, so whatever you think you ought to be doing, _don't_."

"Severus," Remus said. "Please." Slowly, Snape's hand unclenched Remus' robe. Taking a deep breath, Remus took a step back and observed his former classmate. Quite honestly, he looked horrible. His eyes were not quite bloodshot, but still red, his face flushed, though whether it was from their current predicament or from something else, Remus couldn't tell. "Harry and I are friends. Even . . . even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to be the adult with him. Not anymore."

Snape's resolve seemed to be breaking, so Remus stopped talking and let the man think for a moment. Finally, he sat. Unfortunately, it was in the seat Remus had been using.

"Have you been getting any sleep?" Remus asked, and after a moment, Severus shook his head. "Have you taken a potion to help?"

More silence. "I don't have enough concentration to make a sleeping potion," Severus said quietly.

"Well, you could buy one. Or ask someone else to make one for you. You haven't asked Harry?"

"What's with all the questions?" Severus barked and the man leaned down to put his head in his hands, his shoulders resting on his knees. He stayed like that for five minutes. Remus just looked at him, not wanting to say anything else lest he get yelled at again, until he sat back up. "I should talk to him."

"Yes, you should," Remus answered, taking the liberty to talk again. "I don't think he even suspects you're . . . not well."

It was Severus' turn to sigh.

"I'd offer to make you a potion, but I'd probably do it horribly. Is there none at headquarters?"

"I haven't looked."

"I'll go do that for you, then," he offered and leaned over to grab his sandwich. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

Severus continued to sit for minutes after Lupin left, not really thinking. Finally, he sighed and leaned against the table.

'Not well.' That was a way to put it. Perhaps even an understatement.

He still couldn't even believe he had attacked Lupin that way. Harsh words were one thing . . .

He looked toward the kitchen door. He highly doubted Lupin had actually gone to headquarters to look for a potion for him. Chances were he flooed to the Ministry to find Tonks. If only . . .

The month he had been gone had been nerve-racking at the least. From finding a location to finding people and getting out notices and working strong spells, from protection and notice-me-not charms to cleaning and building charms . . .

The whole him-training-to-be-deputy-headmaster was a facade – although Albus had strongly hinted that it _was_ him they had chosen – for him to be learning how a school needs to be run for a small, secret wizarding school for muggleborns who weren't accepted at Hogwarts or thought it unsafe to be there. The most trying part was finding a place. It couldn't be in Great Britain because the needed to stay away from the Ministry's new laws. Most places on the mainland were out, also, because they simply refused to have a school that wasn't theirs on their land. It had taken him forever before he found a large mansion on a small island that used to be part of France, but was now a tiny, mostly-wizarding country of it's own.

Although Severus had found it too good to be true, there turned out to be nothing potentially dangerous on the island. It wasn't a poor island – they supported themselves for the most part and had good trades with nearby places – but there was no wizarding school. Wizards and witches were homeschooled, while the muggle minorities had a small, one room schoolhouse of their own. They were terribly grateful that Severus wanted to build a school there and that they wouldn't have to pay for it, aside from tuition for the students who wanted to go there.

Fixing the mansion up to be ready for students was the easy part. Finding most the staff wasn't the hard, either. Enough adults on the island were specialized in enough magic. The next hardest part was setting the protection spells. Even with the help of the locals, it had taken a week.

And very little sleep the entire time.

Seeing it was nearing 11am, still over four hours before Harry would arrive home, he trudged to the living room and laid on the sofa. He was tired enough. He was sure he'd be able to fall asleep . . .

* * *

Harry sat at the desk in the lecture room, staring at his book. _Dayda dandum . . . _what? He looked, confused, at the book in front of him. There was _nothing _about whatever . . . whomever . . . where ever . . . this was in his readings before this. Or was he just going mad?

"Mr. Potter," Shacklebolt said, coming into the room. It was the first he'd seen him today, as he was out on a mission or something.

"Hello, Auror Shacklebolt," Harry replied.

"Did you do the investigation, as I assigned."

"Er . . . yeah. I think . . . something's wrong." Before Shacklebolt could prod him on, Harry told him what happened at Marge Dursley's house. The auror nodded after he finished and started to write.

"I'll send a team to search. It doesn't sound good. You said she told you whom her magical relatives are?"

"She gave me addresses . . ."

"Alright, then for your assignment, in addition to your book studies, you are to research the occupants of those addresses, find their background and who they are related to in order to check if they are the correct people. By Wednesday morning you will need to visit one home and do a simple interrogation. I won't cover the basics with you now, but you can read pages . . ." Shacklebolt trailed off, "25 to 40 in the investigation book. I'm going to have Sam work with you today. I have a few things I need to deal with. Any questions?"

"No," Harry answered after a bit of hesitation. He really hadn't seen a lot of Sam or Peter since he had started training, much less talk to them. They were always off doing something else.

"Good. Well, I'll probably be in my office tonight if you have any questions, but I'll be away from the Ministry for the next few hours."

* * *

Remus looked at the potions store. He thought it would have been a bit more organized – it always was whenever he had searched for a potion before – but there was no reason to it. He wondered who had kept the cupboard stocked while Snape had been away. He was sure Harry would have had at least some sort of order – the same potions together at least – but he could have been wrong.

Finally, he encouraged himself to start sorting through them, matching up the potions by labels. Of course, most of them were labeled with initials – P.R., H.P., C.D. . . . – so he had to guess what most of them were. Luckily, he was able to match most of them with a potion or two that had a written out label, all of them obviously Harry's or Snape's handwriting. It wasn't until he had most the cupboard organized before he finally found a sleeping draught. The right one, if he vaguely remembered correctly.

Remus turned around and was about to leave when he saw a man in the doorway. He was familiar, but Remus hadn't had much interaction with him, so he couldn't catch a name.

"Looking for something?"

"Sleeping potion," he answered, holding the vial up.

"You're Remus Lupin, right?"

"Yes," Remus said, trying desperately to think of the man's name, with no luck.

"I don't think we've officially met. I'm Ryan Caine. I've actually heard some about you from Mr. Potter. We've been working together on some potions."

"Ah," Remus said, find that answered some of his questions. "Yes, Harry's mentioned you a couple of times."

"Really? That surprises me. I haven't gotten the impression he likes me very much."

"Well, he's been rather busy lately. Probably distracted."

"Probably." The room lapsed into silence and Remus walked toward the door.

"I should go. Got to get this potion to Severus." Ryan stepped aside, confusion written on his face.

"Professor Snape? I would think he would be able to just brew his own. He was brewing the potions here for awhile."

"He's been a little too tired to brew lately," Remus said. "Rather stressed."

"Oh. Well, that makes sense. He was gone for an entire month doing who-knows-what. Perhaps I'll see you around?"

"Perhaps," Remus said, and he flooed back to the manor. He was surprised to find Snape on the sofa, looking quite uncomfortable with his constant moving, in an uneasy sleep. "Severus?" he asked and the man sat up abruptly. It took a few moments for him to catch up on what had happened.

"What is it?"

"Sleeping Draught from headquarters," Remus said, holding the vial out to him. Snape took it and examined it closely.

"Thank you," Severus said, un-stoppering it and taking a sniff. "I didn't think you were actually going to bring me one."

"I said I would. You're in desperate need of sleep. You being in this state isn't doing anyone good, anyway, is it?"

Snape glared at him suspiciously before he stood up, leaving to probably go to his bedroom.

That out of the way, Remus thought he'd go to the Ministry to see if Tonks was available to talk.

* * *

At ten minutes after 4, Harry finally managed to make it out of the Ministry and home. He found who lived at the address Aunt Marge gave him and he planned to visit them today.

"Dad? Remus?" he called from the fireplace not getting answer. Thinking they were out somewhere, he walked to a good distance away from the house and caught the Knight Bus, hoping to get to one home before dinner.

The first house was a small home outside of London, a good distance away from any other buildings. Sighing, Harry walked to the front door and knocked. He got an answer almost immediately; a child maybe 8 or 9 years old.

"Who is it, Janie?" asked a woman, coming up behind her.

"Gina Dursley?" he asked and she gave a nod. "I'm Harry Potter. I was given your address by Marge Dursley?"

"Oh, Marge," Gina replied, a forced smile on her face. "I haven't seen my cousin in years. How is she?"

"I haven't seen her in a couple of days, but last time I did, she was fine," Harry lied. He didn't know what was wrong, so he didn't bother mention anything that could turn this conversation for the worst.

"Oh?" Gina asked. "Well, come in, I suppose." Harry did so, taking a brief look around the living room he entered. "What brings you here?"

"Well," Harry said, planning on getting to the point immediately, "I'm just checking up on things. I had found something in Diagon Alley that belonged to my Aunt and Uncle – Petunia and Vernon Dursley – which Aunt Marge had taken after their death. Both of us were rather confused as to how this happened because she hadn't ever been to Diagon Alley."

"Well, none of us have had any contact with Marge in years."

Harry nodded. "Do you know of anyone who has? A wizard or a witch?"

"Danny visits her sometimes, I think. Has a fondness for her dogs."

"Daniel Joeson?" Harry asked, stifling a laugh at the mention of the dogs.

"Yes. He might know something. Maybe he borrowed it and dropped it. He was always clumsy and losing things."

"That might help."

"Do you know where he lives?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good, well, if that's all . . ."

"Yes, of course, goodbye, Mrs. Dursley." Glad to be done with the awkward conversation, Harry apparated to a place near Joeson's home, which was actually in the same town Remus lived in. It made finding the house easier, but it also sparked a bit of suspicion in Harry. The town was small and the chances of him finding someone there he needed to talk to . . . didn't sit well with him.

He found the house easily enough and he knocked on the door immediately, no longer wanting to stall and to just get this over with. A man – Harry assumed it was Joeson – regarded him without word but then, after a couple barks from inside and a yelled back 'quiet' from Joeson, he seemed to come to life.

"Of all things, you're Harry Potter! This is probably the last thing I've ever expect. Do come in. Come, come."

Harry followed, reluctantly closing the door behind him, and stood in the living room doorway.

"I can't stay long, sir, I'm in a hurry, but I have a few questions for you."

"Of course. But let me get some tea. I have some water heating up anyway, and it wouldn't hurt to sit for a few minutes, would it? I heard some things of you from Marge, but I never thought I would actually meet you!"

"Er . . . right."

Before Harry could think of something else to say, Joeson was no longer in the room. Harry sighed, hoping it wouldn't be this way for many more future investigations. Part of Harry wished he asked someone to come with him, and his mind wandered to other aurors. Did aurors often go on investigations by themselves? He would think not, but then again, this wasn't a real investigation. The part with Marge probably was something, but this was on the opposite side of the island. He thought that's why Shacklebolt took over the other part. Or seemed to, anyway.

"Alright, then," Joeson said, coming back. "What's your questions? Oh, sit, it won't hurt."

"Have you noticed anything thing strange lately? Seen anything odd?" Harry asked, sitting slowly on a very soft looking chair. It was softer than it looked, which ironically make Harry even more uncomfortable.

"Well," he answered, much less jolly than moments before. "I've forgotten things, actually. I probably shouldn't be telling you this. Mark said to keep it quiet, but it was very strange. One day I was in the garden, trying to get my Laxbeans to stand up straight and the next thing I know I was in muggle hospital, Mark talking to me. He's been a real help, you know. I barely remembered anything that day I woke up. Apparently, I had been missing for two weeks, and I couldn't remember my name, where I lived . . . Mark helped me remember. He said he had special training in memory regain. Strange how I remember almost everything again, except those two weeks and anything about Mark. He said we were rather good friends, and I think it hurts him that I don't remember him . . ."

"Is Mark here now?"

"Yes, he's here most of the time, now, actually. Sometimes he'll leave for a day or two, but then he's right back there, underfoot. Hmm . . . kinda like puppies, you know?"

Harry forced a laugh.

"That sounds nice of him. Do you think you . . ." Harry trailed off. He found he couldn't breathe. He swore he failed to feel his heart for several seconds, even though the room had gone quiet enough that he would have heard a bead drop on the carpet.

"Malfoy," Harry hissed.

"Hello, Potter." Malfoy seemed way too jolly. Joeson turned around.

"Mark? What's going on?"

"That's n–."

"Nothing, Danny. I think you're tired. How about going to sleep?"

"Sleep," Joeson yawned, slouching. "That sounds good."

The man was asleep in seconds.

"You don't ever take warnings, do you, Potter?" Harry didn't say a word as he silently and quickly drew his wand. "The Dark Lord will be please this part of the plan worked."

Before Harry could move his wand to cast a spell, everything went dark.


	34. 3: Downhill

_Disclaimer: Don't own._

_WARNING: This chapter contains psychological torture (mild in this chapter, I think) and a little bit of physical torture. Because of this and similar (perhaps more intense) future scenes, the rating of this story is being raised from T to M as a precaution. It may not be necessary, but some aspects might make readers uncomfortable and I would like them to be informed. Other forms of torture may or may not be implemented and/or implied in the future of the story (If you have any objections, please let me know), but you will be warned at the beginning of a chapter if such a thing occurs._

**A/N: The french in the 'dream' sequence is really unimportant . . . it's the actions that are. The dreamer can't understand french, either, which is why it is actually written in french and not english. As a summary, the lady asks her about the box and the girl refuses to answer. There will be a few of these 'dreams' in future chapters too. I'll attempt to keep them short -- I'm never a big fan of random things like that in stories if they get longer than a few lines -- but they're necessary. And yes, the information being told in these is part of the plot.**

**Pre/Post Summary: Remus went missing then found after having headaches for awhile. Headaches come back with a side effect . . . Severus has been back from his mission, but is now having issues with sleep . . . so therefore with the world around him. Especially Remus, although it seems they've gotten that figured out. Harry has been captured by Draco Malfoy as orders from Voldemort, but (as seen here) the results aren't what Harry expected . . . and are definitely bound to get worse than he could ever imagine in a way he never thought would be used against him.**

**- - - - -**

**Enjoy!!**

**Chapter 10 - Downhill**

Severus stretched as he realized he was awake. He felt . . . good.

And hungry.

Willing himself out of bed, surprised to find it not very difficult, he sauntered down to the kitchen where he found Lupin sitting, with what smelled like hot chocolate.

"Did you just wake up, Severus?" Lupin asked, and Severus scowled in his general direction. "It's nearly 11."

"Is Harry in bed?"

Lupin took too long to formulate an answer.

"No. He hasn't come home yet, actually." Lupin's face didn't look confident, although his voice would suggest otherwise. "I've been waiting for him. Of course, he'll come in, wondering why I've waited up for him. He probably went to a friend's house."

"Perhaps," Severus replied, avoiding looking at the werewolf. "It's not like him to stay out this late on a weeknight," he said, more to himself than to Lupin.

"No, it's not. Whenever he'd visit me, he'd be gone by 10 if he had training the next day." Lupin stood up suddenly. "We need to floo someone. I'll try Ron and Hermione first. Anywhere else you would think he'd go?"

Severus shook his head. "The Ministry maybe?"

- - - - --

Harry took in a deep breath as he woke, but in doing so, his throat filled with dirt and he started coughing.

"You know, I would have thought they'd have search parties out for you by this time. But it's been hours." The speaker stepped close, reached down and grabbed Harry by the robes, pulling him up a bit. "But they don't realize you're gone yet. Too bad," he said, letting go. "I was hoping to see some hysteria."

Harry wanted to see who it was, wanted to get up and face him, but the room spun too much every time he tried to get to his knees.

"A little trouble standing, Potter? How about your breathing, that working okay?"

Harry didn't want to admit that it wasn't. Perhaps it was the dirt he half-swallowed, half-breathed, but each breath seemed to be harder and harder.

The man laughed again.

"Fortunately for me, the Dark Lord doesn't wish to see you yet. He has things planned for you. Many, many things." The man got closer to the ground and leaned into his ear. "A few of them I'm sure you'll enjoy. Eventually. Once we get that pretty little head of yours on correctly." Harry felt him stand. "Until then, I've been given free reign over your life. You should feel honored. I normally don't like people. Especially those like you, all self righteous." The man paused and Harry braced himself for a pain that never came. "I think that this, between us, just might work."

_He's insane_, Harry thought, each breath still coming harder and harder and, to the sound of the man laughing, Harry felt himself black out.

- - - -

"Severus?" Lupin asked, this time not even making an attempt to cover up the worry. Severus merely shook his head, glad his legs were able to at least make it to the few feet to the sofa. Harry . . . his Harry. "Is it too early to report anything?"

Severus nodded. "Once they turn 17 . . . I'll go to the Ministry early. At 8."

"Hope he shows up . . . I'll come with you."

Severus couldn't muster an irritated look. He felt sick. Angry. If only he hadn't slept during the day! Harry might have come home and assumed no one was here and left to visit someone . . . and now no one knew where he was!

"I'm going to try Tonks. Maybe he was asked to do some late night observation . . ." Severus doubted that very much. After all the work Harry had done to get to the point, academically, that he was at now, he knew his son wasn't extremely willing to do much more work than he needed to. And, as far as he knew, any field work wasn't for a least a year yet. "Maybe he's made some friends at the Ministry. He could have gone out for a drink." Severus couldn't even bring himself to believe it, as much as he would have given for it to be true.

"Harry? Go out for a drink? I doubt he would even know what you meant by 'go out for a drink'. He's 18 and I've never heard him even mentioning the word alcohol."

"Severus, he lived for seven school years in a boys' dorm. He'd have to be daft to not know what you meant. But you're right," Lupin sighed. "I don't think he _would_ drink alcohol given the chance. And I've never heard mention of new friends . . ."

With a sudden urge arising, Severus picked up the glass he had left earlier that day and threw it. He didn't know where he landed, but the loud _crash _it made landing gave little satisfaction. Severus could feel Lupin's eyes on him, but he refused to even look in the werewolf's direction.

--- -- -

Harry rolled over. Or tried. He couldn't. Trying not to panic -- rule 1 for being an auror! -- he tried to open his eyes.

That failed to work, too. So he tried to think about what happened. What _did_ happen? Was he in an infirmary somewhere? The bed was soft enough. He remembered Malfoy -- ferret never described him better -- and a man and being unable to breathe.

Taking a deep breath to ensure that he was breathing, Harry tried to concentrate. _What did that book say?_ Harry growled at himself. He knew it was something about being about to feel the magic used on you and unraveling it . . . Although the book also said that this was a near impossibility for nearly 97 percent of wizards. He gave up on that after a minute in favor of trying to determine where he was. The hospital _was_ a possibility . . . Maybe he was injured and they didn't want him to move and 'disrupt the healing process', as Madam Pomfrey would say. Wouldn't explain the lack of pain and why his eyes were magically glued shut.

Finally completely awake, Harry started to feel it. That fluttery feeling in the stomach when you know something really bad is going to happen.

Harry heard a door open slowly and then close with a bit too much force. He felt his skin begin to crawl.

Something really, _really_ bad was going to happen.

"Hello, Harry," said a man, the same man from before, Harry realized with fear. Harry felt him sit on the bed and he cringed as fingers were run though his hair. He leaned in close and Harry shivered. "I hope you're comfortable. I set up this room just for you. I'd be hurt if you didn't like it."

"Mmnffaa." Harry attempted to speak with no luck.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have done the charm wrong." This time, Harry felt a wave of magic constricting his throat again, but this time it lasted less than a minute. He opened his mouth to try to speak again.

Nothing came out. Not a sound. He tried again.

It wasn't a silencing spell, Harry could tell. It was like he couldn't use his throat to make sounds. On the verge of panic, Harry tried to get up again.

"Now, now, Harry. Is that how you return hospitality?" Harry wanted to scream has fingers began running through his hair again. "You're safer here than you will be anywhere else in the next few weeks." A second hand began gently stroking his cheek. "You look too young to be prepared for what's ahead," the man said, one had pausing to rest on Harry's chest. "That makes me very excited."

- - - - -

They were nearly to Shacklebolt's office when Remus stopped. Severus didn't notice, though.

"I'm going back to the manor," he called. "He could arrive at any moment."

Remus didn't bothering waiting for Snape to answer. He couldn't believe they both just left without at least writing a note in case Harry came home.

"Harry?" he called as he stumbled from the fireplace, a part of him berating himself for getting his hopes up. Har--ahh. Argg." Cradling his head, Remus knelt in front of the sofa, his eyes shut tightly.

His headache was back, in full force. Remus was thankful when the hard hammer pounding subsided to a wooshing in his ears and slight pain behind the eyes after a few minutes. His head hadn't hurt at all in the past couple of days, and he had to admit he'd forgotten all about them. Now, they were back in full force.

After making a search of the house, Remus took a vial of the headache potion Harry made for him and decided the sofa was a good place to wait . . . If Harry came through the floo, he would wake Remus up if he fell asleep.

-- - - - -

The next time Harry woke, he was slow to realize that he never remembered the man leaving. Although the man was gone for the time being, Harry still couldn't see. Not knowing whether he was angry or scared, Harry tried to sit up.

He was _definitely_ surprised that he was no longer bound to the bed. Carefully, he moved to the edge of the bed and felt for the floor. When he didn't feel the floor where it should have been, Harry moved both feet back onto the bed instantly, afraid of what could be down there.

_Come on, _he thought to himself. _The floor has to be there somewhere! Maybe I can find a way out of here!_

He knew that line of thought was probably fruitless. It was possible the bed had been charmed to hover over something dangerous . . . _maybe crocodiles_, Harry thought on a whim, but that reminded him too much of the muggle telly and he highly doubted a Death Eater would get an idea from the telly.

But without knowing what was below him, Harry was very hesitant to venture off the bed. And blind, there was no telling what might be out there.

At the moment, he could breathe, he could move, and the man wasn't in the room. He just hoped it would stay that way for awhile.

Actually, he hoped to get _out_ of the mess he was in soon. _Stupid, stupid_, he thought to himself. How did he manage to get into this to begin with? Tonks said all the places he could potentially visit on his training assignments were assessed before Harry would finish his training for the day. That's the only reason they would let apprentices out on the 'field' alone. It really wasn't an assignment.

Harry sighed, tingling feelings in the corner of his eyes. He tried to put away the feeling; it wouldn't do to cry now. Instead, he focused on feeling around on the bed. Surprising, it was quite comfortable. Reaching the head of the bed, feeling nothing abnormal about the foot of the bed, he found a pillow and the edges of several blankets. He was tempted to crawl under them, curl up and sleep, hoping that this was all a dream and that if he ignored it, it would go away, but he managed to quell that feeling. It wouldn't do make himself look weak. Who knows what the man might do then. He wasn't sure what he was looking the least forward to; the man coming back or meeting Voldemort. Voldemort was probably in the lead, though.

Propping the pillow against the headboard, Harry leaned against it and thought about his dad and friends. Did they know he was missing yet? No one was there was at the manor when he left. And Remus didn't even live there . . . Maybe he was staying at Tonk's house for a little bit. She did seem angry that morning when she didn't know where he was . . .

And it was always a possibility that Severus wouldn't even come home . . . Last time, he didn't get a chance to tell him and Dumbledore completely forgot about it until he brought it up.

But Shacklebolt would know something was wrong if he didn't show up. Right?

To his right, Harry heard a heavy door shut quietly. He was ambivalent as the movement distracted him from a potentially depressing line of thought, but it also probably meant . . .

"Hello, Harry. Slept well, I hope."

For reason unbeknownst to Harry, he couldn't stop a small whimper from escaping his lips. The man must have heard and laughed.

"That excited, are you Harry? Can't wait for what I have planned next?" How the man got so close, Harry wasn't sure, but suddenly he was sitting on the bed again and had reached out and brushed Harry's cheek. Harry couldn't help but flinch and then in response to that, growl to himself. He was sure that if the man was threatening him, beating him up, _crucio_-ing him, he wouldn't be acting like this! But no, the man was being gentle one moment, and then strangling him the next! He hated not knowing what to expect.

Harry felt tears began to form in his eyes again and he berated himself again. He wasn't a child, he didn't need to be crying! _Especially_ not in front of the man who's meant to torture him!

"Oh, Harry. It's alright," the man said in _that_ voice. That voice that when he was a child, he would have given _anything_ to hear. Still would love to hear, but from this man not. Definitely not from this man. "This won't go on for long. Just until we're satisfied. Do you think you can do that? Do you think you can satisfy us? Satisfy me?"

Harry closed his eyes tight, the little good that did, and gave his head a strong shake.

"Such defiance," the man sighed. "Here, Harry, come with me."

When nothing happened, Harry bit his lower lip. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? Go with the man? Or refuse. So far, there seemed no promise of torture this time, but Harry knew that could change at any moment. But if he refused . . . What would the man do?

"Come along, Harry," the man said, grabbing his hand this time and pulled him as he stood up. Harry resisted a bit, trying to stay on the bed. The man just pulled harder. "Be a _good_ boy, would you Harry? Just for a little bit? I'm merely showing you around your room."

"My . . . Room?" Harry asked, speaking up for the first time.

"Yes, Harry. Your room. What, you thought I planned on keeping you in a cage outside? No, even though you might deserve it. I'm a much better host than that."

Harry cringed at the delighted and knowing tone in the man's voice. The man was seriously disturbed. Realizing he didn't have much of a choice -- he didn't want to provoke the man into doing something Harry didn't want -- Harry let the man lead him.

"Now, most important rule is you keep your room clean at all times. No matter what the mess is, what you feel like or how it was made, _you_ clean it up. If I ever come here to find it not clean, you will be punished."

Harry tried not to think of what the implications of that.

"Now," the man said, letting go of his tight grip of Harry's hand, much to Harry's relief. "This is the kitchen. It will be kept stocked, but you must make your own meals. And you must eat everything you make even if it means you will eat burnt food every meal for a month. Can't be wasting food, now can we? Now, through there is the bathroom. You'll find everything you need there. You are also expected to keep perfectly clean and presentable. That means, even the little facial hair you do have must be shaved each day. Understand? Which brings me to clothes. Since you didn't think to bring your own, I took the liberty of finding you some until something better can be arranged. Part of being presentable means dressing properly. Shirts and pants in the wardrobe, socks and underwear in the dresser, nothing unusual."

Harry waited a moment before trying to process anything. After a few minutes and no more words were forthcoming, Harry wondered if the man was still there. Just in case, Harry continued to stand where he was and think.

Did the man know he couldn't see? This put Harry into even more dis-ease than he already was at. Not being to see because they don't want him to see . . . That he could deal with. But what if he really was blind, now? If it wasn't a spell and he was blind and they thought he _could _see.

Harry didn't know how long he stood there trying to see _something. _But it was long enough that Harry had talked himself into a near panic.

He knew he _had to calm down_. That was one thing Shacklebolt drilled into his head everyday. _Keep calm_, he always said. _If you don't, you'll not be able to think straight, you'll forget stuff, and you'll mess up._

_Breathe_, he told himself, again and again. Eventually, it worked out that he didn't have to remind himself to breathe, but by then, he found himself sitting on the floor.

By then, he was _sure_ the man had left. "Hello?" he called out, just in case. There was no answer. Harry listened carefully and heard no breathing, felt no shifting around him. Slowly, he got up and walked, arms straight out and waving, until bumped into what felt like a counter.

Had to be the kitchen. He didn't know how he was going to manage cooking if he couldn't see. He didn't even know if he could trust the food to be safe to eat . . . What if they planned to slowly poison him slowly without him knowing so that by the time he learned what exactly was happening, there was nothing to do but wait for the pain to end?

And _WHY _do they expect him to look presentable? There were so many things that didn't add up he felt himself on the edge of insanity by just trying to figure it out.

Like, _why he wasn't dead yet_, and why Voldemort didn't seem interested in killing him. Honestly, Harry wasn't complaining, but none of it made sense.

The mention of food had enlightened Harry to how hungry he really was, which left him with the dilemma of whether or not he should actually eat. Ignoring the part of him that wanted to find a way back to the bed, Harry moved to the left, following the counter with his hands. He passed a sink -- which he was planning on going back to -- and came to an icebox that reached up to mid-torso. Not wanting to tempt himself to eat, Harry didn't open it, but instead, reached up and felt for any cupboards. Harry counted six above the counter before the kitchen ended, leaving Harry at a wall. He followed that until he came to a doorway.

_Must be bathroom_, he thought, groping at the closed door for a doorknob.

There wasn't any.

For some reason, Harry became unexplainably happy. _That has to be the way out,_ he thought. If he could just find a way to get it open. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he had to try. They wouldn't expect him to try to escape. Well, if they knew he was blind. If they didn't . . . he had a feeling the wards and lookouts would be in full force. That thought didn't prevent Harry from thinking of a way out as he continued along the wall, coming to another doorway. This one had a doorknob, a little higher than necessary.

He slowly opened the door and waited for something bad to happen. Nothing did, so he entered the room to find a bathroom with a toilet, a very large bathtub -- _perhaps too large, _he thought uneasily -- a sink and a cupboard. The cupboard held a toothbrush, several large bottles and a smaller bottle. He could feel where the bottles were labeled, but he didn't have a way to determine what they were.

_Yes you do, dimwit_, Harry yelled at himself. He was gradually getting more and more irritated as he explored. He just wanted to go home. If they were basic body cleaning potions, Harry would be able to easily tell which potion was which.

That still didn't lessen his irritation. Having enough with all this, he retraced his steps back to the sink, managed to find a glass in one of the cupboards above, and filled it with water. Before taking a drink, he smelled it.

It _smelled_ like water, but that just told you there wasn't a simple potion in there. Could easily be a more complicated potion that was rendered scentless. Taking his chances, he took a gulp and waited again. It takes strange -- too many minerals, perhaps -- but nothing happened so Harry finished his glass, filled it up with water again.

Picking a direction that felt right, Harry walked out into the middle of the room, feeling very, very venerable without his eyes or anything to hold on to.

He did, after a few run ins with what seemed to be a random placement of stairs -- leading to another door that wouldn't open -- and a couple tables. Taking a few sips of the water and putting the glass on a high table, Harry crawled onto the impossibly high bed, crawled under the covers completely, pillow under his head, and curled up as small as he could get.

"_Caroliina, qu'est-ce que c'est?"_

"_Hein?" _The girl seemed to be ignoring the elder woman and the woman didn't look pleased.

"_Caroliina, le bo__î__te."_

"_Le bo__î__te?" _It became apparent what they were discussing when the old lady nearly stomped over to the girl and tore the carven, wooden box from the girl and proceeded to throw it to the dirt ground and kick it into the fire.

"_Non! Non!"_

"_Tu ne parle pas, Caroliina, tu te tais."_ The girl didn't say another word as the woman left the room, just merely stared at the fire.

-

"Lupin!"

Remus was jarred from the dream by Snape's angry voice and he slowly sat up.

"You come back here to wait for Harry and you fall asleep?"

"I . . ." Remus shook his head only to find his headache had gotten worse during sleep. He leaned down to cuddle his head in his hands and he answered. "Didn't mean to, Severus. My headache has come back.

"A _headache?_ There's potions for that." Snape's voice was bitter.

"I _know_. But even the strongest potions haven't worked."

Snape didn't answer immediately.

"What have you tried?"

"Muggle pain killers, basic headache potions, strong headache potions . . . It hasn't been this bad in awhile."

"And you haven't gone to the hospital?"

Remus shook his head slowly. "I prefer to avoid St. Mungo's when possible."

"Stupid," Remus heard Snape mumble under his breath and he looked up at his former classmate. "You didn't think that a headache that bad could be something _life threatening_?"

"What?" Remus asked. Quite honestly, no, he hadn't thought of that. He merely thought it was a headache.

"Oh, for . . ." Without warning, Snape had managed to pull Remus through the floo to St. Mungo's before Remus could even think of resisting.

"Severus, this isn't necessary."

"You know, I don't care what happens to you," Snape snapped, but Remus thought the words sounded forced. "But Harry likes you, so I'd rather you be alive. That means making sure your headache isn't something serious."

Not knowing how he could resist -- he knew Severus could overpower him if he wished to do so -- Remus followed the Potions professor to the main lobby, where they were directed to the correct floor. When they were told to sit in the waiting room, Remus sat in as far into the corner as he could. With much more hesitation, Snape sat stiffly down.

"What about Harry?"

Severus shook his head. "No word. Didn't show up and Auror Shacklebolt has no definite information. Although no missing person can be officially reported until tomorrow, they are doing an unofficial investigation. He had a . . . _mock_ field assignment, which they _claim_ was cleared before he started, but with the war . . ."

"So they have a possible lead?"

Snape only nodded.

"Remus Lupin?" a voice called. Reluctantly, and with some sort of unspoken encouragement from Snape, Remus stood and went to meet the Mediwitch.

Things just couldn't go _right_.


	35. 3: Putting Things Together

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**---**

_Warning: Torture again, this time not as mild as the previous chapter. Forced nudity. _

**Pre and Post summary: Harry's still with the unnamed man, but Severus puts clues together and guesses at who has him. Severus feels his world being torn out from beneath him and Harry begins to feel more and more helpless in his effort to stay alive and not in pain . . . And he begins to hate himself for it. **

**Chapter 11 - Putting things Together**

Lupin came back into the waiting room about an hour later and from the expression on the werewolf's face, Severus could tell it didn't go as smoothly as it should have.

Severus didn't know why he reacted as he did. What did he _care_ if Lupin was having headaches? _I don't_, he kept telling himself, but even he wasn't believing it so much anymore. He could admit it, though. He didn't _like_ Lupin. The man was immature, dangerously good at lying and acted much too _nice_ to people he didn't like. It didn't make sense and it made it nearly impossible to determine how he felt about anything.

Except Harry. Of course he liked Harry.

Severus watched from his seat as Lupin went to the desk before starting toward the stairs. Scowling, he followed Lupin, not managing to catch up without running until they reached the floo.

"Lupin," he said, but the man ignored him in favor of throwing down the floo powder and mumbling his destination. Irritated, he did the same, traveling to the manor. He was surprised to find Lupin sitting on the couch.

"Did they determine what was wrong?"

Lupin shook his head. "No. And the med wizard wasn't too nice about it, either. There was a _reason_ why I didn't want go to St. Mungo's, Snape," he said bitterly.

It was somewhat of a shock, hearing Lupin actually call him _Snape_. In fact, he never remembered Lupin calling him anything other than Severus, although at Hogwarts as students, they never spoke to each other. Who knew what Lupin ha called him in order to stay on the good side of his friends?

Severus didn't bother responding. Instead, opted for breakfast in the kitchen. As he scrambled some eggs and ham, he couldn't stop the faint sense of worry about Lupin. Headaches were supposed to be easy to diagnose with magic, unless something magical was preventing it. If a healer couldn't determine the cause, it could be worse than he originally thought.

"Severus?" he heard from a few feet behind him, startling him. Severus couldn't respond. It felt as if something was preventing him from doing so, but what it was, he couldn't quite place a finger on it. "I didn't mean to act like that toward you. I was just very irritated, that's all. I had the terrible luck of being examined by someone who was terrified of werewolves. He tried to do his job, of course, but wasn't very good at covering up his dislike." Severus still didn't say anything. Suddenly a warmth covered his upper left arm and he turned around to find Lupin gently holding on to his arm. "I'm sorry, Severus. Really -- thank you for making me go, but . . ." Lupin sighed and Severus realized he should say _something_.

"It doesn't matter, Lupin." Severus' voice sounded much to cold for his liking. He found he didn't want to sound that way. "I'm sure I would have been angry, also."

There. Slightly better. He hoped. It must have been better because Lupin gave him a small smile before toasting a couple pieces of bread for himself. Severus felt strange after that . . . A strange warmth filled his stomach and he wasn't quite sure what it meant. The closest thing he felt to that before was when he and Harry were having those very-close father-son times.

And this was _definitely_ nothing like that. He didn't like Lupin. Simple as that.

- - - - - - - -

Harry woke to a small stinging feeling, but the feeling didn't stop on his awakening. In fact, it got worse until he couldn't stand it anymore, and he shoved the blankets off of him and jumped up, as if trying to escape the sensation. This made it worse, causing him to lose balance and before too long, he had found himself falling off the high bed and somehow had hit his head.

Afterward, he couldn't tell if he had fallen asleep or just lost consciousness, but when the stinging sensation refused to stop -- granted, it wasn't nearly as bad as it was on the bed -- he tried to get up. It was difficult, but he managed it and was glad the stinging lessened even more.

_So,_ he realized once he managed to regain his senses, _no sleeping now? _he wondered. Was this what the man meant when he wouldn't like it if he didn't follow the rules? But he didn't think not sleeping was on of the rules . . .

Gradually, the pain got worse, as if to remind him he wasn't finished yet, and as Harry turned around to lean on the bedside table, he remembered the bed.

It wasn't made. Of course it wasn't, but he was in it, before! Still, he thought he might as well make it because it could be the cause of the pain and he really, _really_ needed it to stop.

It took Harry six tries before he managed to make the bed neat enough to stop the pain altogether, but it was worth it.

Obviously, the man was serious when the room had to be clean at all times. Or maybe, he just wasn't supposed to sleep during the day? Was it day? And if not sleeping during the day wasn't a rule, why would messing the bed to sleep in it be an issue?

Harry was so confused. He made a vow that he was going try sleeping on _top _of the blankets instead of under . . . Until he knew for sure.

"Hello, Harry," the man said from behind him, and Harry jumped. How long was the man there? Even more unnerving, the man walked up to him and put his arms around Harry's waist, holding him in place. He tried to get away, but because the bed was right in front of him, there were not many options of movement. "I heard you were naughty today. Do you know why you were naughty."

Harry didn't answer, still struggling. The man was still touching him, still _holding_ him and he couldn't stand it.

"Oh, Harry. You just don't know how to be good, do you?" The man's chin was now on his shoulder, his mouth right next to his ear. _Way_ too close to his ear. Even more unnerving, the man was much taller than him -- not that Harry was that tall. "You need to understand why you were such a _naughty, naughty_ boy. Can you think for me? Can you do that?"

Harry continued to struggle, but was beginning to feel exhausted from the efforts. Hoping that maybe if he calmed down and answered like the man wanted, maybe he would let go.

"I . . ." he began. "I made a mess?"

"You don't sound so sure of yourself. Now, come on, why are you a naughty boy?"

Harry was no longer feeling so insecure. Instead, he was beginning to feel angry.

"I don't _know_ what I did wrong!" Harry yelled, trying to push away from him. In his anger, he couldn't see that it was no use; the man was much too strong to fight without magic. "I don't know what you want and I _sure_ don't want you to touch me!"

"Now, Harry," the man warned, moving an arm from around his waist to cover up with mouth and pinch his nose closed. Harry make a few more attempts to get away, but with the hand on his mouth, holding just as tight as the arm around his waist had him, it was even harder to move.

And again, he couldn't breathe, although the reason this time was quite apparent.

"Now, Harry," he said again. "Naughty boys feel pain. Disrespectful boys don't breathe. You want to breathe, right?" Harry couldn't answer, even if he wanted to. He was afraid if he moved now that his neck would be snapped . . . It scared Harry how strong this man was. He didn't know how long he was held there, but it wasn't until Harry could feel himself starting to go that the man spoke again. "Now, I'm going to let you go. And you won't move until I move you. If you do, you won't be able to breathe for hours . . .

"Oh, it is possible. A little spell my dear Bellatrix invented. You know her, I assume? Oh, yes, the spell is wonderful. Keeps the body alive and the mind conscious, but you won't be able to breathe. Think, choking for hours. It would be amusing to watch, the first hour or so. After that, though . . . I have a tendency to forget about it. One time I forgot about this one girl for a week or so. The spell kept her alive, of course, but she was gone after that . . . Too bad, too. She was rather fun. Now, are you going to behave?"

Harry didn't move. He knew the man was trying to scare him into doing what he wanted but Harry didn't have a good reason to resist at the moment. And he was very much scared, as much as he would normally have been embarrassed to admit it.

Slowly, the man did let him go and Harry did his best not to move. It was probably another few minutes before he was satisfied and the man turned him around to face him. At least that was what Harry assumed.

He really wished he could see. He could _feel_ the man's eyes on him but without seeing him, Harry had no idea what the man could possibly be thinking.

"You need to clean up. I know you just moved in, but that is no excuse for being messy." The man tsked a few times before grabbing his hand. "We'll have to fix that. You're obviously not capable of taking care of yourself quite yet, so I'll have to help you."

Then the man was pulling him along.

"First a bath, I believe . . ." Harry heard the water running, and half of him was telling him to run. The logical part of him knew it was no use. There was no where to run and it would only cause more pain.

If he could just get out of here _alive_. That was his goal. Keep alive. Severus would find him. Or the aurors. Or Ron and Hermione or Remus. They'd be looking for him . . . They'd have to find him eventually, if not soon.

And it wasn't as if he was in any _real_ danger at the moment, right? The man had to keep him alive, and if he did what the man wanted everything would be fine. He'd be very uncomfortable if the man kept stuff like this up, but . . .

"Now," the man said, in front of him again. He really liked that word. Now. Now. He'd be glad to never hear it again. The man didn't continue and it took Harry more than a few moments to realize his shirt was being unbuttoned. Startled to realize this, he stepped back, only to trip over something and fall to the ground. "Harry." The man sounded disappointed. Harry was partly glad for that but also partly scared. "What did I say about behaving? You need a bath, and you shouldn't have clothes on for that. If you keep acting like a child, you will be treated like a child. Does your father just let you act like this all the time? What must people think of you, so childish? Kids like you don't last long in the world because they can't understand what it means to be an adult. You can't do even the simple things right, can you?"

_That's not true!_ Harry thought at the man, but he was glad he was able to keep himself from shouting out loud. The man pulled him off the ground and continued with the buttons. He distantly wondered why he wasn't using magic.

Harry shivered as his shirt was taken off and he started even more when he felt his jeans being undone.

"No!" Harry said without thought. "No, get awa . . ."

Instantly, Harry couldn't breathe out enough to finish the sentence. Nor could he breathe in.

"Such a disrespectful, disobedient child. Can't even realize when someone's trying to help him." Harry tried to let himself fall to the ground, but the man held him up. After an eternity, it _burned_, and as he tried desperately to breathe, he was lowered the ground and forced to lay on his back. Harry couldn't manage to fight worth anything. It was as if his body wasn't responding any longer.

Harry closed his eyes, little good that did, when he felt his jeans being slid off and tensed as much as his body could when his pants were lowered. Somehow, he no longer had shoes or socks on anymore.

"See, that wasn't so difficult, was it?" Harry was pulled to a standing position again, and an arm was wrapped around his waist again. Harry shivered as the man used his other hand to comb fingers through his hair. "You need a hair cut."

Suddenly, Harry was off the ground, and the next thing he knew, he was in the water. He tried to move; he _tried_ to get out of the water, but the lack of oxygen to his body made it nearly unresponsive and Harry felt himself on the bottom of the large tub, unable to move.

How long was it that he wasn't able to breathe? Harry didn't know, but he also knew that it was becoming progressively harder to think.

He wanted to go home, he wanted his dad, and he wanted to _breathe_. Forget everything else. He just wanted to breathe. Roughly, he felt hands and a cloth rubbing him, probably cleaning him, but even knowing that, the touches were completely unwanted. He could wash himself! He didn't want the man touching him . . .

He was turned over onto his stomach, still on the bottom of the tub, completely under water. Still unable to breathe. He was grateful the sensation of the hands touching him stopped, but he still couldn't breathe. At least he could try now, but . . .

Water! He was drowning. Still incapable of much movement, Harry tried his best to get to the surface, wherever that may have been. The spell had been taken off while he was _underwater_.

No longer able to move, Harry felt himself going again.

_This is it,_ he thought. _He's decided to disobey Voldemort and kill me . . ._

- - - -

It was 10 o'clock the next morning, when Lupin was at work, that Hermione Granger came uninvited through the floo, near hysterics.

It was Severus who had to deal with her, half asleep from searching all night. The aurors came up with nothing in their preliminary search. _Nothing_.

"Ms. Granger," Severus said flatly as the young woman clung to his robes. "If you could separate yourself from me, we could discuss this." Perhaps normally, he would have been faintly amused. Now, though, he was quite sure there was nothing in the world that would amuse him.

Slowly, she did manage to stop sobbing so loudly and tear herself away from him only to sit down shakily on the sofa.

"Sorry, Professor Snape," Hermione said, sniffling. "It's just . . ." Then she started crying again.

Severus was definitely not overwhelmed with ideas on how to fix the situation. Eventually, he sat down on the sofa next to her and took her hand.

"He's been through a lot," he said shakily. Her mood was catchy. "Wherever he is, he's probably managing to take care of himself however he can."

"But . . . Oh. Oh. What if . . ."

"Don't finish that sentence, Ms. Granger. I have no wish to think of such things."

"But . . . Oh, there must be _something_ we can do!"

"Yes, there must," Severus repeated, not knowing what else to do. He didn't know what they _could_ do.

"If only I could find out what happened . . ."

"Refrain from searching on your own. The last thing we need is a second missing person."

"Oh, I know," she said, sitting back into a more resigned position. "But I feel so helpless. We've always been there for him. There was never really ever time to worry before, but now . . . Ron's at the Burrow trying to call Mrs. Weasley. She hasn't slept or stopped crying since last night. Mr. Weasley's at the Ministry trying to help anyway they'll let him. No one's told Ginny yet . . . I'd hate to see her reaction when someone _does_ tell her. The twins . . . Oh, who _knows_ what those two are doing," she said, back to sounding like Hermione Granger. "They've locked themselves up in their shop since they found out. I do hope it's nothing stupid. All they ever do is come up with jokes."

Severus didn't respond to that, not knowing what to say.

"I should go," Hermione said, breaking the silence. "I . . . I still have work tonight and I haven't slept yet . . ." She looked over at him, tears still in her eyes. "Goodbye, Professor. Thank you . . ."

Severus just nodded as she flooed back to where she came from and he sat staring at the fire a few more minutes afterward. If he had to be honest, he was feeling quite the same way himself. He felt his eyes burn. He hadn't felt that since . . . Well, he didn't remember.

But what could be happening to his son?

He forced himself to think. Anything he could think of could be of use.

He was sure the boy couldn't be dead yet . . . The Dark Lord would be holding that over the heads of him and Albus. So that meant he was being held somewhere.

For the Dark Lord, in the past, his main reason for keeping prisoners would be to make an example of them. Or to force them into compliancy.

He didn't know which would be worse, but both were a strong possibility. If he wished to make an example of him, Harry would be in a world of pain right now . . . Probably being tortured in front of people for part of the time, at least. Severus gave a small shiver at the thought. The Dark Lord would have handed him over to Bellatrix Lestrange or the Carrows. And would 'encourage' those he didn't have complete faith in to join in.

Severus refused to think of what would happen then.

On the other hand, if the Dark Lord wanted Harry compliant, if -- _WHEN_ -- they found him, they might have to spend a lot of time with him to make sure he's alright . . . As strong as he is, if Mulciber was given free reign, no matter how Harry would resist, he would do damage.

Probably thoroughly insane before his stay in Azkaban, Mulciber was worse than Bellatrix in many ways. His torture is mostly though the mind, although he picked up plenty of curses from Bellatrix -- who he almost considered a pet, although she never realized it. Mulciber was _good_ at controlling people. Probably why he was so good at the Imperius curse, but that was definitely not his favorite method of control.

The floo flared again, startling Severus out of his depressing musings. His brief second of hope was squashed when he saw Albus' head in the fireplace.

"Ah, Severus, I was hoping to find you here. May I come throught?"

Severus, unable to speak, simply nodded. Whether or not Albus saw, he came through anyway.

"How are you, my boy?" he asked. Severus didn't answer.

"Any news?"

"Not much. With an official investigation going now, a few aurors picked up a tinge of Dark Magic covering one of Marge Dursley's relatives, Joeson. So unnoticeable it took a near-dark spell to notice it. He is being questioned at the moment, and being thoroughly searched to curses."

"Do you think he will know anything?"

"He mentioned the name Mark a couple of times," Albus replied. "But Joeson appears to be a victim."

Severus nodded, then felt as if he had be hit with a bludger in the stomach.

"Mark? Mark Mulciber?"

Albus shook his head. "We don't know. Although, from what can be gathered, this Mark has blonde hair . . . He could be using an alias to cover his tracks."

"Mulciber has brown hair . . . Could be a Malfoy. Any other blonde haired Death Eaters I remember wouldn't have the skills for this. If that's the case, their Manor might be a place to search. They have a dungeon."

Suddenly a paper airplane came flying through the floo. Severus gave the headmaster a look as the man unfolded the letter.

"I told them to send any information here until I got back . . . I hope you don't mind," he said absently. "There was a persuasion spell on him, along with a few other Dark Arts spell . . ." Albus handed the letter over and Severus looked it over several times, each time, his heart falling a little bit more.

"This looks like Mulciber's work," he said, unable to keep his voice flat. "If it wasn't him that took Harry, it was someone working in league with him . . . Which would mean the Dark Lord has every intent in driving him mad."

Severus felt himself shaking. Albus put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, leaving this hand there afterwards. "If it was Mulciber who has Harry, why use his first name as his partner's alias?"

It took a moment before Severus could answer. "A message, probably from the Dark Lord. He knew how Harry was taken would eventually be unraveled, and he knew I would recognize it as Muciber's work." His voice cracked.

"I'll let them know. Are you going to be alright? Would you like me to stay or would you like to come?"

Severus shook his head. "I'll be fine," he replied flatly. "Perhaps something to drink."

It was Albus' turn to shake his head. "No, my boy. Harry needs you clear-headed. You have calming potions on hand, if need be? If not, there should be some at headquarters. Harry had checked over all of them for quality, if you're worried."

"Thank you, Albus," he said, , feeling himself slightly calmer. "I will be fine. If nothing else, Lupin will be back at 4. And Ms. Tonks will be here shortly after she is done with her shift at work for today . . . We'll discuss possibilities before she goes back to aid in the search." Severus grew silent. "I should be out there looking for him."

"There's not much you can do at the moment. Every effort is being put into picking up a trail."

"I don't think that will be of much use. Mulciber covers his tracks well. He's had a lot of experience. And he won't be in any place I recognize, although it wouldn't hurt to search those. I can make a list . . ."

Albus nodded.

- - - -

Harry was completely disoriented when he woke up. He could breathe. He was dry. He was on something soft.

But after a few minutes, he realized he was cold. And he had no clothes on. In desperate movements, Harry scrambled to cover himself, but stopped when he turned onto his stomach and realized he was on the bed in _the_ room. He didn't know if he was allowed to mess the bed up, and he did _not_ want to be in pain at the moment. He still felt shaken up from being drowned . . .

"Good, you're awake," the man whispered in his ear and Harry jumped. He had absolutely no idea how the man was able to sneak up on him so readily. He thought he should at least be able to hear him . . . _must be silencing spells_, he thought. He tensed when he felt a hand on his back and he grabbed onto the pillow at his head when the hand started rubbing.

"Stop," Harry said, hating the sound of begging in his voice.

"Now, why would I do that? You don't have any say in what happens to you. You're _mine_, for now." The man laughed. It was a cruel, insane laugh that cause a horrible knot in Harry's stomach, although part of that could be attributed to the fact that both hands were massaging his back. "Your skin is so smooth," he said lowly.

The hands moved, to his lower back and then Harry let out a breath of relief as the hands were removed.

"I really should take away clothes altogether . . ." Harry's breath caught again . . . "but it really is too cold in here, isn't it? No, I'll let you keep the clothes for now, for a price. Do you know what I like?" The man said the last sentence into his ear and when Harry tried to move away, he found himself glued to the bed again. All he could manage was a bit of squirming and sliding, but he didn't manage to move more than a few centimeters.

After the man left, Harry managed to get out of bed on his own and find his way to the dresser and wardrobe, even as horrible as he felt. He had no idea whether or not the clothes he put on matched, but it was better than no clothes at all.

The price wasn't anything life-threatening. Technically, all the man really did was kiss him, but for some reason, he felt more tortured than from anything that had happened so far.

But he knew, for sure, he'll _definitely_ make sure he took a bath. Maybe even twice a day, if he could figure out what a day was. It wasn't as if he had a lot of other things to do.

He just had to make it out of there alive. Right?


	36. 3: A Long Road Ahead

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**Warnings: Same as the past few chapters . . . Torture in a few of its forms. It's going to be that way for the next few chapters yet. **

**Pre and Post Summary: Harry's still with the man -- Mulciber -- and a sudden realization of Harry's brings the torture up a notch. Severus has been holding on by a thread, Remus has been having dreams and more headaches and maybe -- **_**just maybe**_** -- they become a few steps closer to finding Harry.**

Chapter 12 - A Long Road Ahead

The only road off in the distance, a fire burned in a half-covered shelter out of rain's way. A girl, younger than 10, sat next to the fire, looking off into the distance, a dark look in her eyes. Coming into view on the road was a man on a horse and the girl's eyes changed from dark to greedy.

- - - -

Remus woke feeling strange. Unsettled from the dream, he supposed. Rubbing his eyes, he focused on a movement in front of him and saw Snape. Remus didn't say anything, startled.

"You were asleep for quite some time. I was checking to see if you had died," Snape said as an explanation. Remus sighed, head pounding. He might as well not sleep . . . every time he did, the headache got worse. "You _are_ alive?"

"Must be," Remus mumbled. He doubted he'd feel so bad if he wasn't.

"Perhaps you should sleep more. A potion . . ."

"It wouldn't do any good, Severus," Remus interrupted. "Every time I sleep, the headache gets worse."

Snape left suddenly, without a word. Remus sighed. He supposed there was a very low ceiling to the amount of care Snape could give someone who wasn't Harry.

After a few minutes, he managed to make it to the kitchen and he drank several glasses of water, finding himself horribly thirsty. Not so hungry, he noticed as he spotted leftover breakfast still on the stove.

Not knowing what else to do, but not wanting to go back to bed, _especially _since his head was pounding slightly less than when he woke, he went to find Snape to see if there was any news about Harry.

He found him in the library, Tonks sitting on the table with a book in her hands.

"Remus!" she said once she saw him. "Severus said not to wake you, so I've been waiting here," Dora said lifting the book in her hands slightly. "Severus thinks he might be able to find what's wrong with you. Your headache, anyway."

Remus glanced at Snape, who was pointedly ignoring them. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"At work? Remus, it's six in the evening! You've been asleep all day!"

"I . . . It's 6? Really?"

"Anyway, we think we have a lead on where Harry is."

"You know . . . where . . . Where? Why didn't you wake me?"

Snape and Dora were quiet.

"We haven't found him yet, we just have a lead," Snape said. "An old _friend_ of Mulciber's. Kingsley is meeting us in a alley off her neighborhood. If we're lucky, we'll be able to scare her into telling us where to find Mulciber. Or, at least, how to find him."

"And then we get the information from _him_?"

"No," Snape said flatly. "He would never tell. We must track him. It will be difficult to do, but it might be possible."

"Might?" Remus asked, feeling a bit weaker. "We're going at sun down?"

"You should stay here," Snape said before anyone could reply.

"What?" Dora and I asked at the same time.

"You're ill. From something a Death Eater did to you. The worst possible thing you can do is chase one down." Remus wanted to argue. It was _Harry_. Why would he care about himself. Only . . . He probably wouldn't be of much use with the headache. "And we need someone _here_," Snape added as an after thought. After seeing Dora nod in consent, Remus sighed.

"Alright. I'll stay," he relented. "What until then?" Dora shrugged, tapping the chair she was resting a foot on, silently telling Remus to sit. He did, and she used one hand to massage his neck as she continued to read. Suddenly, Snape dropped a book in front of him.

"Read," he said. "And mention anything that sounds even vaguely familiar."

The book was on Dark Curses.

- - - -

It was a week before Harry was able to convince himself to eat, although if asked, he would claim it was forever. The man went between extremely _sweet_ and degrading and nearly killing him daily. Worse, the man would never tell Harry what he was doing wrong when he wasn't there, although it was quite obvious he always knew. Sometimes, the automatic punishment was instantly painful. Other times, it would build up. But Harry always had to find out on his own how to fix it.

Sometimes, it wasn't even something he did, but instead a mess the man had made himself. And finding it was difficult without the use of his eyes. Once, by the time he had found the puddle in the middle of the floor, he was having trouble standing from the pain and he had passed out twice while cleaning it up.

Now, Harry made a point to make a sweep of the rooms as many times as possible. He had little else to do, besides, although the lack of food was causing him to grow very weak.

As Harry silently made his way to the kitchen, making note that his path had been clean, he realized he still didn't know if the man knew he was blind. Harry thought the man would have to know -- it had to be quite obvious from just how he moved around the room -- but the man treated him as if he could see. For one, his clothes were expected to match. It had taken Harry quite awhile to put together as many robes, shirts, slacks, underwear and socks as he could. Combinations that didn't cause pain. But he managed it, and Harry was angry at himself that he felt _happy_ that he did.

Harry wasn't understanding the man's game -- because there was nothing else Harry could think of to call it. The man played with him, in every demeaning, violent, sick way the man could probably imagine. And more than Harry ever managed to give thought to in his life. But Harry didn't see any reason to it. The violence he could understand. But why the neatness, the room, the bed -- although he didn't dare mess up the covers -- the lack of _pain_ when he did something right?

Surely, they wanted him in as much pain as possible, right? Voldemort wanted him sorry and dead, but this wasn't going to work to make him sorry. It was just making him more and more angry.

Harry found the kitchen. He didn't know what to make, nor how to make it with being able to see what he was making. But he opened the ice box anyway, to see if there was anything in there.

Milk, he supposed was in the pitcher. Eggs. Butter.

He took out the Milk and eggs. There was a brief, sharp pain, but Harry ignored it. It was merely warning him.

In the cupboards, he found flour and sugar. A couple plates and cups, a large bowl and a heavy pan Harry could barely get down. Again, a sharp pain, but this time longer. He didn't care. He was going to eat, even if the food was poisoned.

When Harry broke a couple of eggs into the frying pan after finding matches to light the gas stove, the sharp pain started once he put the shells back down. Harry growled. He wasn't going to just _leave_ the mess. But Harry gave in went in search of a rubbish bin, hoping that it would be considered clean enough to throw the shells in there. The pain subsided slightly when he threw the shells out, but it was still very, very noticeable. Forgetting about the eggs for the moment, Harry put away the remaining eggs and the milk and cleaned up any mess the broken shells could have made.

It wasn't until he could smell his cooking eggs that he remembered them, but once he was back at the stove, he realized he didn't have anything to mix or turn the eggs with. Not wanting the eggs to burn, Harry hurriedly searched through the drawers and finally found a spatula.

He cleaned his mess before he even dared to touch the food, as starving as he was.

- - - -

Severus stared up at the house. It wasn't fancy, but it suited the woman they were there to interrogate; expensive flowers that have been forgotten for a few days hung from the house, the front, elegant garden littered here and there with weeds. She was always forgetful, becoming interested in something for a few days and then losing interest. Severus didn't want to count the pets that died under the insane woman's care.

Neither did he want to remember that it was he, Severus, who had courted her and brought her to the Dark Lord.

He knocked, and she answered the door a few minutes later.

"Severus," she said slowly, as if she had just woken. "What a surprise."

"It is really?" he asked in reply. No, he supposed she wouldn't have expected a visit from him. Still, she stepped aside to let him in and Severus charmed the door to open on the others' touch.

"How have you been fairing?" Severus asked, part of him truly wondering. She had always been sickly, even when younger.

"Well enough," she replied. He could tell suspicion was slowly seeping in. "And you?"

"Not so well. You see, my son has recently been kidnapped.

"Let me guess," she said with a small, bitter laugh. "The Dark Lord has him and you think _I_ know where he is."

"Where is Mulciber?"

"Mark?" she asked, confused for a moment before she comprehended his meaning. "Oh, I see. _He_ has him." She gave another laugh. "Poor kid. But . . . Even if I _cared_ about _your_ son, I wouldn't tell you where to find Mark. I have no wish for him or the Dark Lord to be angry with me."

"There are other ways to get the information from you," Severus stated with fact. "You telling me willingly is merely the easiest." Severus could see a faint glimmer of fear in her eyes. He fingered the bottle of veritaserum in his pocket, wondering if he could get away with using it with two aurors in the room. He was sure they wouldn't report him -- especially not under the circumstances -- but he didn't know.

Although, for Harry, he was willing to take any chance. And he was rather reluctant to use torture on this woman, but he knew he would, if nothing else.

Severus heard the door open, and quickly, he spelled her to sit and hexed the chair to not let her go. Tonks and Kingsley entered the room. He motioned them out and after making sure the magical bounds were secure, he joined them.

"She won't willingly tell, as I suspected."

"So what are our options?" Tonks asked.

"Compulsion spells, at the least," Kingsley replied. "I'd rather this not lead to any physical harm."

"If compulsion spells don't work . . . Nor anything else . . . I have veritaserum," Severus said quietly.

"It was brewed by yourself?"

Severus nodded and waited uncomfortably during the pause.

"If the compulsion spells don't work, that will be our next action. We will need to obliviate her in any case, so the use of the potion will not be noted," Kingsley said.

"You will so easily break the law?" Severus asked, unable to stop himself.

"Unfortunately, sometimes it must be done. Our department realizes this and does not question it unless something suspicious arises."

That statement made Severus nervous for more reasons than he could place his finger on.

They left that night, the encounter forgotten by the woman, with not much more information than they had at the beginning. But it was a start.

- - - -

Harry was cleaning a bunch of small objects off the floor -- where he came from, he wasn't quite sure -- when it suddenly hit him.

__

I'm doing what he wants

, Harry thought with a sudden burst of defiance. _They don't want me dead, yet, they want to make me do what they want!_

Angry, Harry stood and kicked the neat pile of objects as hard as he could. The pain started getting stronger again, but Harry didn't care. He was _not_ going to do what they wanted. He was NOT. He found his way to the bed easily and tore the covers off, slamming the pillow on the floor as hard as he could. Next, the wardrobe.

Refusing to clean any of it up, Harry picked up the pillow and one of the blankets, crawled onto the bed and sat through the pain.

A couple hours later, his resolve started to break. The pain was everywhere, worse than it had been since he arrived. His head pounded, it hurt to breathe and every inch of skin was on fire. At the moment, he muscles tightened to the point where he couldn't move and he clutched the pillow he was currently burying his face into.

- - - -

It wasn't as long as they wanted before the news of Harry James Potter-Snape escaped to the general public. With all the news -- both true and false -- the Prophet printed, conducting an investigation got increasingly difficult. The requests to the Minister did no good -- he refused to quiet the paper for 'no reason' and refused to comment any further.

Severus headed for the Ministry floo, intent on going home, check on Lupin was faring and continue his balancing of researching what was wrong with the werewolf and searching for Mulciber. Instead, he was spotted by Joa, the Hogwarts potions professor, and the Drima girl. The girl, probably soon to be 17, was babied, as Severus had realized after Harry's short friendship with the Drimas.

Even more disturbing with the family, Joa had talked to him several times about arranged marriages . . . And became quite obvious after the fourth time what her intent was; Joa was attempting to 'set up' her niece with Harry. Once he did realize, he refused to acknowledge her each time she brought it up, but that didn't stop the invites to the Drima home throughout the summer so far. Severus never bothered mentioning it. He knew that if Harry was interested in the girl in the slightest, he would have shown signs. As it was, though, Harry didn't seem interested in having a love interest at all at the moment.

Even now, when Harry was missing, Severus wondered if he was required to talk to his son about . . . _things_. About love, about what he could expect, about the more intimate moments . . .

Severus shook himself from his thoughts as Joa and the crying girl approached him. He evaded them easily, though, and made his way home, feeling as if he would give up anything just to know that his son was alive.

Albus was sitting on the sofa when he arrived, looking grim.

"What happened? Is it--"

"No, Severus, no news, but the headmistress from the school wishes to speak to you. I was hoping . . ."

"No, Albus. I won't go there, I need to look for Harry. I need to be here."

"It would only be for two days. Go there today, talk with her. There is a meeting tomorrow where they would greatly appreciate your guidance and then you'll be back here."

"Albus . . ."

"Please, Severus," he asked quietly. "You need something to occupy yourself while you're waiting to hear from your contact."

"I'm _looking_," Severus emphasized. "I don't need anything else to occupy myself with!"

"We are all looking. Perhaps a day and a half would help you remember something you've missed."

"What if . . . What if we can't find him?" Severus asked, feeling pathetic. Feeling so helpless. The headmaster didn't answer immediately, and he felt his heart drop even further.

"Severus, he's strong. He'll make it through."

"Just _stop_ it!" Severus yelled, unable to take it anymore. "You don't _understand_. If Mulciber does have him, he won't stop until he's completely broken. And _then_ the Dark Lord will take interest! If we don't find him . . . If we don't find him, we'll lose him forever because he'll _never_ get out. The _best_ don't get out. Remember Daniel Lauhr?"

"The auror."

"The _best_. I could see that even when I was following the Dark Lord. He could get himself out of anything the Dark Lord threw at him. Until Mulciber! He was _nothing_ after that. It took over 2 years, but the man was a complete shell."

"And then he killed his wife and son . . ."

"Don't you understand? If we don't find him . . . If we don't . . . yes, he's strong and he'll manage for awhile, but they won't give up and he can't last forever! _No one _can."

Unable to stand how he was feeling any longer, Severus stumbled to the kitchen. He needed to do something. _Now_.

"What's happened?" Lupin came into the room, but Severus ignored him, getting a glass and the unopened bottle of whiskey Minerva had given him. He poured some, took a sip and then abandoned the glass in favor of the bottle.

He didn't remember deciding to go to the lab, but when he found himself there, the door slammed behind him. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. He stood in front of the opened potions cupboard, taking a gulp from the bottle.

There had to be _something_ he could brew to point his way to either Harry or Mulciber. If he had something of Mulciber's -- _blood _-- he was sure he could brew something to find him. Track him. But Mulciber rarely left a trail he didn't want to leave and they were no closer to finding him than two days ago.

It would be nearly impossible -- if not entirely possible -- to locate Harry without following Mulciber. There would be strong wards and they never thought of keeping a locating charm on the boy. They were illegal for anyone over the age of 7 and would bring too much trouble if it was detected. Without being magically connected to the boy before being behind wards . . .

Severus dropped the bottle of whiskey. If . . .

He ran into Lupin as he rushed out of his lab.

"Severus, you shouldn't be . . ."

The briefest of eye contact, but it was enough. Severus ran past to the floo, not answering as Lupin asked what he found.

- - - -

Remus just stood, staring at the fireplace after Snape rushed out, Albus doing much the same beside him.

"He thought of something," Remus said quietly. "He . . ." He couldn't find any more words to say.

"I hope it's nothing too hasty," Albus replied, just as quiet. He sighed. "I must go. I need to tell the headmistress than Severus is unable to talk with her today." The headmaster looked at him. "I will probably take his place. It is necessary for the school to be completely ready when the students arrive."

"No contact?"

"No contact," he replied then left.

Not knowing what else to do, wondering if he could find Snape and help, he went back to the potions lab to clean whatever had crashed before the door was opened. Seeing it was the bottle of whiskey, he cleaned it up with a few quick spells before flooing to Hogwarts to see if that was were the man had rushed off to. It was either that, or that house on Spinner's End or headquarters, most likely, but he didn't hear.

- - - -

"Harry," the man said into his ear and Harry let out a pained, almost screaming moan. It was so _loud _and it caused everything in his body to hurt ten times worse. He didn't know how long he had been in such pain, but it felt like days, at least. Sometimes it would edge off for a little bit, only to come back worse. He could feel the hunger eating him, feel everything that moved around him, all pain enhanced. "_Harry_," the man said slower, closer. "Are you going to behave? Will you be a good boy?"

Skin brushed against his own, naked self. He couldn't handle the feeling of the cloth on him. Every time he had moved, the clothes would brush against him, would make him feel as if he was that much closer to dying. Even the bed hurt. The floor hurt. But no clothes made it not so horribly painful. At that point, he didn't care who saw him.

"Will you be good? No more messes? Will you behave?"

"Yes," Harry whimpered, wanting the man to stop talking and making the pain worse.

"Yes, what?"

Harry couldn't found his voice to answer right away. Talking hurt worse than listening or moving.

"I'll be good," he finally said. "I'll be good."

"Well, I guess that will have to do for now," the man said and the pain slowly lessoned. After an eternity, he could he relax, letting himself curl up on the floor. The pain was still there, but it was more of an ache now.

It was then that Harry started crying and he found he couldn't stop, even when hands started to massage his arms, cooling and warming him at the same time.

"See, isn't it good to do as you're told?" the man asked, kissing him on the neck below the ear once. Harry didn't answer through his tears. He found he hated himself even more for giving in, letting the man have control. For letting the man do this to him.

For getting caught to begin with.

The hands worked over the rest of his body, rubbing something into his skin that melted the pain into an tingly, arousing feeling. Another kiss, this one on his shoulder, and Harry found himself pulled to his feet and being lead somewhere.

Still unable to stop crying, Harry felt even worse. He didn't cry at all during the pain and now that it was gone, it almost hurt worse, but not physically.

Harry was pushed down and he found himself sitting and he vaguely realized he was at the kitchen table. The sound of something being pushed along wood and Harry smelled and felt the warmness under his nose. Another scraping, and Harry felt the cool metal against his arm. Without thinking, he picked it up, felt it was a spoon, and immediately put it in the food in front of him.

He stopped himself before he could make a mess, though. He knew he had to be careful. The man was right there. He thought, anyway. He couldn't tell.

Harry moved the spoon around and thought that the food was soup, but he couldn't tell what kind. Something with stuff in it, but the soup itself was rather thin. He didn't care. He spooned up some of the broth and brought it to his lips, not caring that it was almost too hot. Forgetting about everything else, he kept carefully, but quickly, drinking the broth -- he still couldn't tell what type of soup it was -- until he his stomach started hurting. After one more sip, he let the spoon stay in the bowl.

Then he remembered he had no clothes on. Not knowing if the man was still there, he covered himself with his hands and was about to find the wardrobe when the man spoke.

"Good boys finish their food, Harry," he said. "Finish your food."

Harry felt like he was going to start crying again, but he refused to give the man that satisfaction. Keeping one hand covering himself, he spooned up as much of the broth as he could before starting the pieces. Noodles and vegetables, he realized as he ate, much slower now. He felt worse with each spoonful he ate, and he knew it was because this was only the second time he ate since he arrived . . . The eggs didn't bother him, but then again, it wasn't that much food.

This . . . was way too much food. He kept at it, though, and although it must have taken hours to finish the soup, he did, even though it was cold, even though he had started to shiver from the lack of clothes and the cool temperature, even though the man was probably staring at him, enjoying his suffering.

He decided he wouldn't let it bother him. Harry knew it was going to be hard, but if he didn't let any of the torture bother him -- the pain, the embarrassing way the man touched him and talked to him -- he thought he could make it though it.

It was sort of like he was doing before, but now, he refused to break down and let the man get to him.

He was hoping the man would allow him to get dressed, though. He didn't hate it more than the pain, that was for sure -- almost anything would be better than the pain he felt for the past few days -- but the way the man was with him, having no clothes made him way more uncomfortable than he ever had been. It was . . .

"You have a mess to clean, now. It is, of course, the least you could do, _especially _as I made you food. It will cost more than cleaning your mess to make up for that. But, cleaning will do for now."

After a moment, Harry took the cue and rose out of his seat, feeling completely exposed. He felt his way to the sink, finding more dishes as he filled the sink with water. Dishes probably used to make the food he just ate.

Harry realized as he began washing the dishes that anything could have been put into the food, especially since he couldn't distinguish what it was. He inwardly sighed. He probably wouldn't have been able to make food himself, anyway, and the man had plenty of other means of torture than putting a potion in his food.

Harry slowly finished cleaning the kitchen, feeling more and more exhausted as he moved. Squeezing out the cloth he was using to wash down the counter, he hung it up. It was his intention to go to bed and enjoy the sleep without pain, but on his way, he stumbled on something. A bunch of small somethings.

Harry remembered the mess he made in anger, inwardly groaning. Now, he'd have to clean it up. Instead of kneeling, he nearly collapsed to the floor in a wave of dizziness. When it faded, he felt around on the ground, pulling as much of the objects close to him before sorting them by how they felt and eventually, all the pieces he could find were piled -- neatly, he hoped. But when he crawled away, no pains warning him he was doing something wrong, he assumed nothing was out of place.

He wanted to make a round of the room -- make sure nothing was there that would cause him pain -- but he found he really couldn't stand and crawling along the floor was beginning to hurt his knees. Harry wondered if the man did drug him. There were, after all, any number of simple potions that would have this effect, but he reasoned it was just as possible it was because he hadn't been eating. What had Hermione said about not eating? He couldn't really remember, but being weak was obvious.

Harry did try the wardrobe, but much to his dismay, he was unable to open it. So Harry continued to crawl toward the bed and somehow managed to make it, climb up, then curl up, realizing as he shivered that the tingly feeling never did go away.


	37. 3: Doubts

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**Pre/Post summary: Harry's relatives were found dead in Harry's 6****th**** year after a Death Eater attack. Harry's still captured, but Severus is sure he's found a way to find Harry. Remus' problems grow, and doubts are planted in Harry's thoughts.**

**A/N: This chapter would have been done ages ago, but I had to rewrite parts of it a few times . . . I skipped out writing a few scenes because they just became pointless. Anyway, happiness will occur in chapter 14, so just hang in there.**

**Chapter 13 - Doubts**

Remus leaned against the cool, stone wall of the corridor, willing his headache to go away. Even the cloud-covered sky was too bright for his eyes, so the dimly-lit dungeon helped a little.

Pushing away from the wall, a wave of dizziness settled over him, nearly falling to the ground.

"_Ce n'est pas vrai_," he heard all of a sudden and Remus blinked a few times before looking up to see a woman, taller than him. She seemed familiar, but he never remembered seeing her. And she was tall. "You must stop this nonsense."

"There's nothing wrong with it," Remus felt himself talk, but the voice was different. Younger.

Female.

"You will stop it!"

Remus took a step back. "The box is _mine_," he said.

"What did you do to it? _Why doesn't it burn?_"

"I didn't do anything to it. It protected itself. And besides, I bought it. You can't take it. It won't leave me."

"Again, nonsense, Caroliina. A _box_ doesn't stop itself from starting on fire! _You _did something. I shouldn't stand for this."

Remus was pushed and he fell back onto the grass. But it wasn't grass, it was stone. Cold stone of the dungeon floor.

_What the hell was that_? Remus asked himself. It was quite awhile before Remus was able to pull himself off the floor and slowly walk, using the wall for balance, to the room he hoped was Snape's lab.

He knocked, but there wasn't any more of an answer than the scraping of something along the stone. He tried the door, finding it to be open, and he let himself in, falling into what looked to be the only chair in the room. He didn't pay much attention as Snape worked, trying once again to will his headache away. It did finally subside a bit. Enough he could sit back and try to take in what Severus was doing.

"I'm having hallucinations," Remus finally said. He was surprised Snape actually looked up from what he was doing, a look of confusion on his face. Snape looked rather involved in his project. After what must have been a large internal debate, the potions professor picked up a jar, mortar and pestal and dropped all three on his lap.

"Grind and talk. All of it. Very fine."

-----

Severus forced himself to listen as Lupin explained what had happened, even though he was focusing on the potion.

"So you were the girl," Severus said flatly.

"Yes. I didn't have any control over any of it, though."

"Sounds like a memory," he commented, turning his attention back to his work.

"But why would _I _be seeing this memory if it isn't mine?"

"I don't know, Lupin!" he snapped and he heard the werewolf sigh.

"What is it you've found?" Lupin asked after a few minutes. Severus didn't answer right away in favor of working. The man had his job, he could do it in silence.

It was a long shot that it would work, but if the connection was still there, even the slightest bit, it would work.

It had taken a little bit to find Harry's work on the potion. Even after the incident, the boy had continued to work on it a little bit at a time, but since Severus chose to work on something else, aside from the few trials Harry worked on with him, he hadn't known where all the research was.

When he found it, he was insanely glad he had taught the boy the correct way to keep a lab notebook. It was messy, yes, but organized enough that Severus had an idea of what to do.

Apparently, Harry had done more with the potion than Severus knew about. Lots of test trials with the mice. And from what it looked like, if there was a connection between the two who took the potion, the connection could be made stronger with only one of the partners taking the potion.

There were three downsides to this. The first, Severus had no idea whether or not he and Harry were still connected. It didn't seem likely that they were still connected from when they had purposefully died to destroy the connection between them and the Voices as evidence showed the connection decreased over time, but he _had_ taken a few other potions Harry was experimenting with. And the boy's notes said it _did_ increase the connection.

The second was that the potion would have to be taken many, many times before the connection would be strong enough to find Harry. After that, finding him wouldn't be too difficult with soul traveling. He hoped.

The third issue was that he couldn't take the potion too many times so close together. With several of Harry's trials, he had given too much of the potion during too little of a time and those mice had all died. The problem was knowing how much he could take without killing himself. Harry had speculated no more than one 30 dram vial every two days, to be safe. With one vial every other day, and Severus estimating he was going to need 10 -- maybe 12 or 13 -- times that for a strong enough connection to be established, he wasn't too happy. It would probably be at least a month before he could do much of anything.

And it was going to take two days to make the potion.

Severus added the hairs before mixing 8 and a half time clockwise and a half time counter clockwise before increasing the temperature of the fire and cleaning up the supplies he didn't need anymore.

"Where do you want the powder?" Lupin asked. Severus had forgotten about him.

"It needs to be divided into five 3gram portions. The scale is over there. Just put them into vials."

"I don't think I can do that," Lupin said. Severus was going to say something along the lines of him being so incompetent to not even know how to use a scale, but when he looked up, Lupin was cradling his head.

"I'll do it later. I won't need it for a couple hours." Severus took the grinded ingredient and set everything on the workbench. "Now, what about the box?

"The box?"

"The box in the memory," Severus said slowly. "What was it? Do you know?"

"No," Lupin said. "And what does that have to do with anything? And what's your plan for finding Harry? You wouldn't be brewing anything if you didn't have a plan."

"I'll explain that when I have the potion finished. I do not know if it will work and no, you will not be able to help with it besides preparing ingredients. The _memories_ might be something useful and that memory appeared to be centered around a box."

"But why would I be living memories that aren't my own?"

"Why did the Death Eaters want you?" Severus asked, annoying. "We don't know. But as the headache got worse right as you saw the memory, we can assuming they are connected. Perhaps . . ." Severus trailed off. That idea was almost absurd, but he wouldn't put it past the Dark Lord.

"Perhaps what?"

"Perhaps the Dark Lord is storing the essence of this person in you."

Lupin just stared at him.

"Storing a . . . Severus, two souls cannot live in one body. It's . . . just not possible."

"Exactly. Hence the headaches."

"But I'm still . . . Here."

"Obviously. What I mean is that the essence of this person . . . Caroliina . . . Is being stored in you. You had said the headaches had stopped for a short time after you returned? Perhaps they were attempting to keep this . . . _person_ in storage."

"And then I started having headaches again. Stronger."

"Go find Albus. He'll know more about this than I would, and I don't have time to look up soul magic."

"Albus isn't here," Lupin answered. "He's meeting the headmistress. He won't be back until late tomorrow."

Severus felt like he wanted to kick the workbench, but he refrained from doing so. He needed to concentrate on Harry. Perhaps, even without the potion, he could search for Harry through soul traveling. It would be aimless, but . . .

But Lupin's life was in danger if what he speculated was true. And he couldn't _truly_ search for Harry. Not with getting results.

Severus felt frozen. And stupid. The decision shouldn't be that difficult! He needed to find Harry. Lupin could help himself.

Severus was torn from considering when Lupin knocked several vials to the floor as he fell to the floor, one hand still on the door handle.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked bitterly.

"Just going to the library," Lupin replied. He sounded almost . . . Bitter. "Thought I'd do some research while I waited for Albus to get back. The library here should have something."

"You can't just . . ." Severus trailed off, not quite sure what he was going to say.

"I can't what? Go to the library? Abandon you to your own work? Ignore everything else that's going on? There's nothing else I _can_ do." Lupin paused. Severus just stared at him, probably blankly. He realized he had no idea what to do about Lupin. "I'll go to St. Mungo's. There must be _someone­ _there who would know what to do."

"NO!" Severus said.

"What? You just want me to sit and wait for the memories of some dead or non-existing person to just take over? I'm not--"

"Do you want to be at the mercy of the Dark Lord? Think he'll _save_ you? They may very well be waiting for it to be bad enough to _go _to the hospital. There could be someone waiting to abduct you the moment you enter the building."

"They've already _had_ me. If they still wanted me, they wouldn't have let me go."

"Don't presume their logic makes any sense without knowing the entire plan."

"So what would have _you_ have me do?" Lupin asked, the resentment clear in his voice this time. Severus found he couldn't handle that. Lupin wasn't bitter, it wasn't who he was.

He was angry. With good reason, a part of Severus reasoned. Severus sighed.

"Go back to the manor and search the library for anything that has to do with soul magic. Or souls in general. There should be something." Severus looked up from the cauldron. Lupin was staring blankly at him. "I can't leave the potion. I'll check through the Hogwarts library when I can. Don't read through the books, just bring them back here."

- - - -

"Harry." Harry started as he woke. He supposed he should have been used to it. "I have a present for you." Now that he had woken up, Harry was unable to stop the coughs. They weren't horrible, just a reminder of the trouble he was having when it came to breathing. It had become gradually more difficult. For how long, Harry couldn't say.

The man was gone now, though. Or so he hoped. He decided he might as well get up, though, lest he was supposed to find this 'present'.

It couldn't be good. It was never any good. And it if was, there was always a price. And the price was usually worse than the things that weren't good.

Getting off the bed, Harry made sure it was made as neatly as possible while not being able to see, and then he followed his usual path around the room. Nearing the kitchen, he was glad he hadn't come across any messes that he hadn't made. A couple more times back and forth and he would be in the . . .

Harry paused as his hand landed in something wet and he quietly groaned. This was apparently the present. Another mess. He sighed as he rose to his feet, but after a couple of steps toward the kitchen, he tripped.

He got away from whatever it was he tripped over immediately. Something about it felt completely wrong. Like . . .

Not willing to speculate on what it was, Harry turned around and crawled back, feeling carefully. Nothing wet on the floor yet, although the liquid that he put his hand in before still seemed to be on his hand. He wiped it off on his pants -- getting a tinge of pain in the process -- and continued. Harry gasped as his hand hit something soft and warm. It felt like a . . . body.

Harry couldn't stop the dry heaves that hit, which turned into uncontrollable coughs. Through the coughs and choking, he vaguely realized the person was moving but not making any verbal noises.

"Who," he managed to say in between coughing his breath and coughing, "who's there?" Whoever it was didn't answer and Harry scooted backwards, trying to listen. "Hello?"

It was then that the pain started. More painful than it typically was when it started, but he didn't think of that. He needed to do something to make the pain stop and he needed to find out what it was. His first instinct was to clean, and the only thing he could think to clean was the liquid on the floor . . . Blood perhaps? He didn't care. Whoever it was wasn't answering him and . . .

"Arrg!" he shouted, hitting the counter as hard as he could with his hand, only realizing then he was in the kitchen. He was just . . . so . . . frustrated! As quickly as he could, he found a towel, wet it and dropped back to the floor. He didn't know where the blood was, so he continued to wash the wood floor, hoping he was retracing his steps and cleaning up everything.

"Potter."

Harry froze. What was . . .

"A-aunt Petunia?" Harry stuttered. There was no answer. The voice was more toward his left and he was sure the body was right in front of him, and he nearly reached out to see if they were still there, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew that anymore contact would just make it more real than he wanted.

It took him a few minutes of kneeling there listening to realize it was probably some sort of trick, so he convinced himself to continue scrubbing the floor. After a bit, he filled a bucket of water, deciding it would be best to just do a full scrub of the floor. It probably needed it, anyway.

He started in the kitchen, moving backwards. He'd eat later. He'd gotten used to not eating a lot, so feeling hungry wasn't a pressing of a feeling that it used to be. Scrubbing, he lost himself in the movement -- forward, back, forward, back -- and he was completely surprised when he backed into something.

The body. Reluctantly, he turned around on his knees and reached forward. He would have to move the body to somewhere eventually. Probably soon, so better to find out what he had to deal with now rather than later. Harry's hand touched skin and he jumped. He hadn't been expecting that, but he pushed himself forward. The body was still kind of warm and it didn't feel like they were breathing, but he still found the next and checked for a pulse anyway.

And there was one. Not much of one, but every couple of seconds, he felt another beat. Harry pulled his hand away, not knowing what to do. The person was obviously unconscious, but . . . There was nothing he _could_ do, was there?

"Hello?" Harry asked, although he knew it wouldn't do any good.

"Potter," the voice said again, this time closer. It sounded exactly like Aunt Petunia. "I hope he's hurting you as much as you hurt us, Potter. We never wanted you anyway, and _this_ is what we get. Everyone told us we should have dropped you off at the orphanage immediately, but we couldn't because those _freaks_ of yours thought you were too _important_. But you aren't, are you? Are they even looking for you?"

"I . . . who are you?" Harry asked because he couldn't get anything else to make sense in his head.

"Who do you think I am?" she snapped.

After that, she didn't say anything more -- whether it was Aunt Petunia or not -- and Harry just continued to sit there, his breath shaky. The pain had increased slightly, but it still wasn't bad enough to force Harry to do anything right then. And even if he _had_ to do something, he had no idea what it would be.

Hope the person would wake up, he supposed. Sitting back in a more comfortable position, Harry played with the towel he was holding, the water dripping on his legs. He sort of wanted to find the source of the bleeding. To see if the person was still bleeding, but he couldn't seem to unfreeze himself.

_It's not as if I could actually see where he was bleeding,_ Harry told himself, but that didn't make him feel any better.

Harry didn't move from the spot until the pain reached the point of becoming unbearable and even then, he couldn't bring himself to do anything but reach forward and shake the person as if it were Ron he were trying to wake up. When that didn't work, checked for a pulse again. And again.

Harry wouldn't let it hit him that the person was actually dead. And the fact that he died while Harry was just _sitting_ there.

Suddenly, Harry stood, too fast so he had to wait for the dizziness to pass, and walked to the closest wall to feel his way around. He had to find where he was supposed to get rid of the body, before the pain got too much and before he couldn't take it anymore. Then, he would scrub the floor. Then a bath. Then . . . He didn't know, but at that moment, he was sure food wouldn't be involved.

While he was searching, he couldn't help thinking back to . . . _Aunt Petunia_. She was dead, so she _couldn't _be here. It had to be a trick, right? Professor Dumbledore said they found the bodies! But, it would have been something Aunt Petunia would have said, exactly as she would have said it, so . . .

But she was wrong. They were looking for him. His father and Remus . . . And Ron and Hermione. They wouldn't stop until they knew for sure he was dead. He never talked with it with his dad, but he, Ron and Hermione decided that if one of them ever went missing, they wouldn't stop looking.

Harry had avoided thinking about it before then, but now he couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if they never _did_ find him.


	38. 3: To Return

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**A/N: I'm a little iffy about this chapter, but the reactions of everyone was hard for me. Hope you enjoy. Thanks you all of you who are sticking through to the end. I'm possibly less than half way done with the story!**

**Chapter 14 - To Return (Mid October)**

Severus stared at the empty vial as Lupin sat near by, nose in a book even though Severus was sure the werewolf wasn't even reading.

He was ready to do this. It took a month longer than he supposed it would, and he had been in an extremely foul mood for the past two months. Both Minerva and Albus had several talking with him about his temperament, although Severus couldn't have cared less what his students were saying about him. What's worse was that he had the youngest Weasley brat watching him closely. Several times, the girl had attempted to speak to him, and all attempts ended with her trying to hold back her tears as she stomped out of the room.

Severus really didn't care.

He placed the empty vial on the table before making his way to the chair he had become accustomed to soul traveling in and he hoped that the connection would be strong enough to lead him to an exact location.

As he relaxed and freed himself, Severus felt for the only other pull that wasn't from his own body. It wasn't much stronger than last time, but the direction was much more obvious.

Severus found himself at what looked to be a small muggle home, but something was preventing him from going inside. Feeling that the wards were a good sign, Severus hurried to determine the location and return to his own body.

- - - -

Harry stood, somewhere in the middle of the room. He had lost track of where he was exactly while he was trying to avoid whatever 'gift' the man had chosen to bestow upon him this time. More and more, Harry had avoided thinking about what he was cleaning up. It was just easier not to.

There was a loud bang that came from the left, and Harry instinctively dropped to the floor.

"Oh, _Merlin_," someone said. The voice sounded familiar, but Harry found he couldn't quite place it. "Get him away from there," the voice ordered.

"Harry," someone else said. Harry didn't move. "Harry, can you hear me? It's Tonks."

"Tonks?" Harry asked, and then gave a small, disbelieving laughed. Many times Harry had felt or heard someone who couldn't possibly be there. Aunt Petunia. Dudley. Uncle Vernon. His parents. And the only hallucination that he managed to hold a civil 'conversation' with was Dudley.

How strange was that?

He heard this Tonks move toward him and Harry took a step back, only to trip on something.

"Harry!" she said, and she grabbed his arm. It was probably to help him up, but Harry pulled away anyway. Often, the good hallucinations turned bad. "Harry? You alright now?" she asked after a long while. "Can you see?"

"It's obvious he can't. Just get him up. Someone get him to St. Mungos. We need to finish searching, and someone bring a illusionist from the Ministry. Who knows how many hidden rooms this place has. Finding any other prisoners is the top priority. Then the capture of any of those Death Eaters if any of them didn't manage to escape. The muggles might as well be admitted at St. Mungos, too. They've had to have been here for almost two years. Can't have them wandering around until we know what has been done to them."

"Come along, Harry, your father's anxiously waiting for you, along with Remus. Everyone else has been ordered to keep away until we know for sure you're alright."

_Father_? Harry thought. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to believe it and he almost didn't allow himself to be led away.

"Come on, Harry, we're not going to hurt you."

"You're not . . ." Harry said without meaning to. Their touch felt . . . Strange. Of course, the only person to touch him the entire time he was there was the man. None of the other illusions had touched him. "Just like Aunt Petunia and mom and everyone."

"Harry, your--"

"Tonks," someone said warningly, and she shut up. Harry didn't really have any interest in what she was going to say anyway.

The first change he noticed was the temperature. The heat felt like heaven; it was something he had forgotten about. As he was led up some stairs, Harry began to feel tired.

"Come on, Harry," someone beckoned and Harry realized he had stopped walking. "Once we're outside, we can portkey you to St. Mungos."

Harry jerked at 'portkey', but Harry ignored the small amount of panic the word brought. There were lots of things worse than port keys.

- - - - - - -

Severus paced as Lupin sat at the table, the cup of water he was resting his chin on was half empty, water spilled on the table from where he had almost knocked it over. His headache had been unbearable for the past couple of hours, with two surfaced memories over the past hour. Four healers had noticed his pain since he and Lupin had gotten there, but each time, Lupin ignored them. Even in his pain, he was more anxious to see Harry.

Not that anything they could have done would have made any difference. They recently determined exactly what was wrong with him, but they had no idea how to expel the girl's memories. Severus just hoped it would be before it was too much and Lupin died or the consciousness of the girl overtook him.

Suddenly, Harry and an auror portkeyed into the other side of the room, and Severus stood immediately.

"Harry!" he called, and Harry turned in his general direction, but the auror held up his hand to say to Severus 'not yet'. Ignoring that, Severus followed them to a room halfway through the corridor, Lupin somewhere behind him. The auror that brought Harry in, though, stood in the doorway after having Harry sit on the bed.

"The healer needs to see him first," the man said.

"I--"

"Please, just don't--"

"Don't what? He's my son."

"The healer will be right here," he said. "We should talk first, anyway."

"About what?" Severus snarled.

"About what we found."

That quieted Severus. He saw Lupin lean against the wall out of the corner of his eye and he looked at him. Lupin nodded and Severus sighed.

"Alright. But then I'm seeing him."

"This way," the auror said, and all three walked into a different room. "The house was more than just that. There was an entire facility below. Your son," the auror said to Severus, "wasn't the only person we found." Severus glared, not really caring at this point. He didn't see how that was relevant. The man paused before continuing. "The boy's relatives . . . his aunt, uncle and cousin . . . They were found, alive. I'm mainly telling this to you because he saw them," the man paused again, "but we think he doesn't believe they were really there. That they were hallucinations. From his reaction, he . . . Probably believes that this is a hallucination, too."

"Is is alright?" Lupin asked, sitting down on the bed.

"He's currently blind, but it probably reversible, especially if our assumption about what you-know-who is correct."

"Which is?" Severus wasn't sure he wanted to know, so when the auror shook his head to say he wouldn't answer, part of him was relieved.

"In addition to that, he's very thin. He probably hasn't eaten much and he has a horrible cough, but it looks like he's kept clean. When we found him, though, he was cleaning up . . ."

"I don't want to know," Lupin interrupted. The auror looked at the werewolf and them back and him.

"I'll tell you the rest later, if you wish to know. That's all you really need to know for now."

The man left without a look back. Severus went to sit in the bed next to Lupin.

"He's home," Lupin sighed.

"We can hope," Severus said bitterly. "How is your head?"

"Horrible, but I'll live.

Severus looked at Lupin, the first time in perhaps two weeks. Every time he had been with Lupin, he avoided looking at him because he didn't want to admit he wanted to help him. Severus didn't want to admit he felt guilty because he kept pushing him away. Finding Harry was much more important to him than making sure Lupin's head didn't suddenly explode on them, and several times during the past two months he'd been called a bastard and heartless by many people. It wasn't as if Lupin really needed _him_. He had Albus, Minerva, and half the Order trying to find what was wrong with him.

Severus knew he had no reason to feel guilty. It wasn't as if he really _cared_ what happened to Lupin. But he was Harry's friend, so that must have some hold over him.

He was on the verge of saying something to Lupin, although once Tonks came into the room, he couldn't remember what it was. Nothing important, he told himself.

"We searched the entire room he was kept in. Or, rooms. There wasn't anything really horrible about the room itself. A kitchen and bedroom combined, a bathroom, clean clothes . . . And we couldn't find any records of any sort on what Mulciber's intent was."

"Of course not," Severus snapped. "Are you here for a reason, or just to stall and annoy me?"

"Severus," Lupin tried to argue, but the way the man was holding his head in his hands sullied the tone. He looked pathetic.

"Go wallow in self pity somewhere else, Lupin. If you're head hurts so much, go somewhere and hex it off yourself. You're being completely useless."

"Snape!" Tonks snapped. "If I hear anything like that come from--"

"You'll what? Hex me? Think _you_ can beat me in a duel? You couldn't make it across the room without tripping over your own feet, much less aim your wand at a moving target."

"Stop it," Lupin said, but Severus ignored him.

"Can't you just be human for 10 minutes?" Tonks asked. "Everyone has let you treat them like shit, tried to understand what you've been going through, but now, even when Harry's in the room across from here, and you still can't recognize what everyone has done for you."

"Now really isn't a time for fighting, is it?" a woman asked from the doorway before she sighed. "Physically, he should be fine," said the healer from behind them. Severus turned and looked skeptically at the woman. "A potion is being brewed to fix his eye sight, and other than that, he's extremely under weight. There are no signs of physical torture, but mentally . . . We're still unsure. You may see him anytime, although in an hour, we'll be working with him and he'll have to be asleep during that time."

The witch left and Severus stood to follow her, but Tonks grabbed his arm, shoving a roll of paper into his hand.

"Read this before you see him. I don't know what it says exactly, but it's to you. From Harry. He must have written it sometime when he was down there."

Severus tore his arm from the auror's grip. She said something to Lupin and Lupin probably replied, but Severus continue to stand there staring at the roll even after she left.

"Sit down and read it," Lupin said to him.

Did he want to read it? What would it say? Would it say what happened to him?

Did he want to know?

Severus found a voice telling himself he didn't, but he sat down and unrolled it. It was messy, obviously written by someone who couldn't see where he was writing. It was still legible, though. He let Lupin move his arm so he could see, too, and he began to read to himself.

_Dad,_

_I know you won't ever get this. The man will probably find it and take it like everything else I have written. He won't kill me, even though sometimes I wish he would. He's come close, but each time, I wake up to live this over and over again. I don't know how long I've been here, but it's been long enough for me to realize I won't say no to anything to wants me to do, anymore. He knows it, too. But still, it doesn't stop. I thought that's what he wanted. Maybe it's because I realize I'm doing everything he wants._

_Since I've been here, I've come to realize I'm not as strong as I thought. I don't think I could say no if Voldemort came here and asked me to do something horrible if saying no meant more of this. It's strange how after all I lived through already, I can look back and think that I'm not sure any of it was worth it. I should have concentrated on you and Ron and Hermione and Remus and all my other friends instead of becoming obsessed with impressing you. But, I don't know if I would have you if I _wasn't_ obsessed with it. You didn't want me when you first thought I was son. You didn't want me until you saw I wasn't lazy and stupid, and that wasn't even really me, anyway. It was the Voices, pushing me. Because of _them_ you started to pay attention to me. Not because he wanted to son or because you thought I was someone special, but because . . . What? I could make you look good?_

_The man says no one is looking for me. That they gave up the search nearly a month ago. That's what Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon told me. And mom and James and Sirius. I don't know if it's true. I don't want it to be, but I_

The writing stopped there and started again several centimeters lower.

_I don't know if anyone who visited me are real. I know they can't be, they're all dead. Maybe they're ghosts. Maybe _I'm _dead. You were here a few times, too, but I could tell it wasn't really you. But Dudley was here a few times. Out of everyone who 'visited' me, he was the only one who was nice. The last time, he said he wished he could stay with me to help me. I told him_

The bottom half of the parchment was blank, but there were a couple more pages. Severus dropped the letter, decidedly not wanting to know what the rest said, and went to Harry's room, not stopping in the doorway. Instead, he sat on the bed and gave his son a hug without thinking. Unexpectedly, Harry jerked, but Severus didn't pull back.

"Harry, it's me," he said instead.

"Dad?" Harry asked.

"Yes, it's me, Harry."

"For real?" Harry sounded so small.

"Of course," Severus said.

"The man . . ." Harry trailed off.

"You're safe, Harry. You're at St. Mungos. And . . . He won't hurt you anymore."

Severus was relieved when Harry didn't ask him to promise, because although he wouldn't stop at anything to protect Harry, Mulciber still hadn't been found.

"I can't see," Harry replied flatly.

"I know, they told me. They're brewing a potion to fix your eyesight."

Harry leaned his head on Severus shoulder as Lupin walked into the room. Lupin stood in the doorway a few minutes, staring at Harry, before he can to sit on the other side of him.

"Alright, Harry?" Lupin asked. He raised his hand to put it on Harry's shoulder, but he decided against it.

"Remus?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I really don't want to go," Harry told him. Lupin looked up at Severus with a confused look on his face before responding.

"Go where?"

"The woods. You asked me to help you look for the box in the woods, but I really don't want to."

"Harry," Lupin said, and paused. "Harry, I never asked you to look for a box with me . . ." Lupin looked up at Severus, both of them realizing at the same time that they might be talking about _that_ box. The one that was in so many of the girl's memories.

"But you said . . . Oh," he said, as if he finally came to a conclusion.

"Harry, what else did I tell you?" Lupin asked.

"It wasn't you," Harry answered, shaking his head.

"But what did this person tell you?" Severus asked.

"It was supposed to be in the shack in the woods. The wood's there, but the shack _isn't_ and you need me to come with you to find it. But you said it was going to be cold and it was already cold enough so I don't want to go with you."

Harry was still leaning on Severus shoulder, but his hands were now wrapped around Severus' wrist.

"What's in this box?" Severus asked.

"Her."

"What?" Lupin asked.

"Or light. You never told me. You said it would help you and that I know where it is, that I've heard it, but I don't know where it is. If I did, I would _tell_ you, I told you that already."

Harry was silent again. Severus could tell Lupin wanted to ask more questions, but the pain was getting worse.

"Dudley told me the man wanted me to look for it, but the man was keeping me in the room, so I told him he was wrong. He also said he wanted to meet you too, but Dudley hates magic."

"Dudley? Your cousin?" Severus asked carefully. He knew it was possible, as the Dursleys were found in the same house as Harry, but he wasn't sure if Harry believed them to be.

And if he didn't, Severus decided, he wouldn't find out that they are still alive. They caused enough problems for his son, and he believed that on top of everything else that would be just too much.

"He wasn't real," Harry sighed. "Same as you and Remus and everyone else." He paused. "This _is_ real, right?"

"Yes, of course, Harry," Lupin said.

- - - - - -

Harry sat, leaning up against his father, holding back the urge to cry. He still wasn't quite sure he believed this was real. After all, he still couldn't see and he wasn't about to get his hopes up by believing that they were brewing a potion to restore his sight. It was alright, though, he thought. Even if he wasn't about to get his eyesight back, even if this was an illusion, a hallucination, he'd take it over being in the room anytime.

And if it wasn't and he never did see again, he supposed that wouldn't be much of a problem either. He was more or less used to it by now.

"Lupin," he heard his father say over his head. "Find Dumbledore and tell him of the box."

"Snape."

"Just go. It might be important. It might _help you_."

Harry felt Remus stand up and Harry opened his eyes and looked in the direction he was moving, even though he couldn't see him. Harry sat up straight.

"What's important about the box?" he asked. "It really could help Remus? With what?"

"His headaches have gotten worse. We can discuss it later when you're better."

"I am better," Harry answered. If something was wrong with Remus, maybe he could help. Especially if he somehow knew something they didn't.

"You still can't see," Severus pointed out and Harry tensed, a strange feeling in his stomach.

"So? I can do a lot of things without seeing, now," he said flatly. "The headaches haven't gone away at _all_?"

"They've been coming and going," his dad replied. "But he told me that right _now_, he wants to make sure you're better before he focuses on his problem again."

"But . . . It must have been _forever_ since his headaches started. And it's probably because of Voldemort, right? And if it is, it might kill him, and _I'm_ not dying right now. So isn't--"

"Harry," Severus sighed, stopping Harry's rant. "There are many people looking right now. There's no need to worry." Harry nodded, but he still wasn't convinced. It sounded like he was lying about something. "How are you feeling?"

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and he pulled away before he realized it was his father's.

"Good," Harry answered. It was more or less true. He was a little tired, but that was it, and as he hadn't slept properly in a long time, that was probably a given. He was supposedly away from the man, so in his mind, that's all that mattered at that point.

"Are you really, Harry? Think about it," Severus asked again. And Harry did think about it further.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered, nodding." I feel fine."

Severus stayed quiet for awhile, and Harry found he couldn't stand the silence.

"Where's Ron and Hermione?" he asked. He needed talking because in the room, it was almost always quiet. Usually, even the movements Harry himself made were unnervingly silent.

"I'm sure they're waiting somewhere in the hospital. You'll be able to see them once the healer says it's alright for you to have visitors other than Remus and me."

"Oh," Harry said quietly. "I haven't seen them in awhile." Severus didn't say anything, so Harry tried to think of something to say. "I want to go for a walk."

"What?" his dad asked.

"Outside," Harry clarified. "I want to go for a walk outside. You know, when I visited the zoo, I got to walk around as much as I wanted, even though I had to make sure I kept the Dursleys in sight. But there was this forest . . . I don't know if it was a real forest, but there was a path. I almost walked on it, but then they went inside, so I couldn't. I want to see where that path goes."

"We'll do what you want later, Harry. Right now, we can't leave the hospital."

"Okay," Harry said.

"Mr. Snape?" a woman asked, and Harry started at her unexpected presence. "Your potion is finished. Here you go."

Harry just sat there, waiting for his dad to move before it hit him that the lady was talking to _him_. _He_ was Mr. Snape. Cautiously, he lifted his hand and held it out. Severus grabbed his hand and put an oddly shaped bottle in his hand.

"Drink, Harry," he said and Harry brought it to his lips and slowly drank the foul liquid.

It took him awhile to realize his sight was slowly coming back. Before his vision fully cleared, he had to close his eyes. He didn't know if it was because the light was too bright, or the colors were too strong or what, but it hurt to keep them open.

"Open your eyes, Harry," his father whispered in his ear. "They need to see if any damage was done."

Slowly, Harry did so, almost afraid of what he was going to see.

The all-white room, he decided, was too bright, but he kept his eyes open anyway and looked around slowly. At the moment, he felt . . . Well, not really there. He was fine with that, though. He was sure he wasn't anyway. It had to be just another game the man was playing.

- - - - -

"Harry?" Severus asked as his son stared off into some unknown realm.

"How's your eyesight?" the woman who gave Harry the potion asked and she shined a light from her wand into his eyes. "Do you have any blurring? Are you seeing the correct colors? Look here." She held up a picture of the outside: green grass, blue sky, blue water, purple flowers. "What color are the flowers?" she asked. She didn't seem to be expecting a response, because he put the picture down.

"Harry," Severus said. "Are you alright?"

Harry continued to stare, but his eyes weren't still. There were slowly moving, as if he were watching something in the distance.

"What's wrong with him? Was there a mistake with the potion?"

"No, no, of course not. The potion appears to have worked, at least some, although a few more doses might need to be given. He does appear to be in shock, though. It wouldn't be a surprise, he was there for months and we have no proof of what happened there. It is very possible he's been changed and could be dangerous. I have arranged for someone to come down from the psych ward to admit him. He'll need constantly observed for some time and--"

"No," Severus said. "He'll do better at home."

"It's too dangerous."

"He'll have an auror there with him."

"I do think it best if he was to return home," Shacklebolt said, coming into the room. As an auror apprentice, we must do observation ourselves to determine his mental state and ability to continue with the program, Ms. Tanke."

"But . . ."

Shacklebolt shook his head. "I'm sorry. If you wish, I will explain the situation to Mr. Gustus if you wish me to, but this is as our tradition insists we handle situations like these."

"No," Tanke said, obviously put-off for being contradicted in such a matter, "I can handle that myself. I'll bring the . . . _paperwork_. You can get more of the potion in the brewery down the stairs to your left outside the door." She wrote something on a notepad and tore it off, giving it to Severus." The agitated woman left and Severus glanced at Shacklebolt, wondering how much of that was true. He had a strong feeling the auror department only determined whether or not a person was able to continue in that line of work, which led to the feeling that the hospital had been compromised.

A moment of eye contact with the auror confirmed that feeling.

"How much?"

"Not sure," Shacklebolt answered, "maybe just one or two, but it's not worth taking the chance. As soon as the paper work is finished, I will escort you and Harry to the streets of London, where it would be best if you apparated home."

It took a second for Severus' next thought to fully form, in almost a panicked manner.

"Have you seen Lupin? He should have found his way back by now."

"Where did he go?"

"To speak with the Headmaster."

Shacklebolt's eyes widened slightly.

"I was with the headmaster. I never saw him . . ."

"I . . ." Severus stopped himself from saying anything. He _couldn't_ leave Harry. He wasn't going to, but for some reason, the thought of something happening to Lupin almost made him frantic.

"I'll look for him, and if I can't, I'll send out a small party to search the hospital. All entrances are being guarded, so unless they were prepared for him to be here, the chances that he is not here is very slim."

"His headaches have gotten worse. The hallucinations more frequent, also. He might have found an out-of-the-way room to avoid being seen," Severus reasoned, more for his own sake than Shacklebolt. After saying that, he felt like a dunderhead; Shacklebolt would have already known that. He didn't say anything as he left, though, so Severus chose to forget about it.

"Harry," he said again, feeling horrible. Anxious. Angry. "Harry, we're going to be going home soon."

When Harry didn't answer, Severus' anxiety rose. Doing his best to quell the dangerous thoughts in his head, he reached out and grabbed Harry's hand in his own, putting his other arm around his son's shoulders. Almost immediately, Harry's eyes came into focus, and Severus cursed himself for not thinking of doing that sooner.

"Harry . . ."

"I wonder what the cat would say to that." Harry replied, as if he were responding to something someone said. It didn't make sense.

"What cat, Harry?"

"Oh, the one that's been following me around. During one of the times mum was nice, she told me about her cat. The cat's been around since. I didn't know cats could talk sometimes. Is it a special magical breed?"

"Cats can't talk, Harry."

"Oh. Well, maybe dead ones can."

Severus dropped the subject, not knowing what to say to that. Maybe it was possible Harry was further gone than when they first believed, if he was hallucinating things.

Severus did _not_ want to believe that.

"Harry, we'll be going home soon," he repeated, and Harry's face scrunched up like a small child's while trying to solve a complicated problem.

"We are?"

"Yes, home. The manor. You remember that, right?"

". . . yeah," Harry answered with a lot of hesitation. "Really home? Not back to the room?"

"No, Harry, never back to the room. The room is no longer there."

"What happened to it?"

"They burned it down," Severus said. Or they will, anyway, once the aurors get everything they needed from it. Not a magical fire, either. There's spells to recover things lost in a magical fire. A real, muggle fire is permanent.

"Severus," Lupin said, walking into the room, Shacklebolt a few steps behind him. "How is he?"

Feeling a little lighter, Severus made eye contact with Lupin, but when he found that uncomfortable, he shrugged. He didn't know how else to explain.

"What did Albus say?"

"I never got to see him," Lupin replied. "I was . . . Ambushed before I made it. They asked me a few questions relating to the memories -- nothing I could answer, though -- and did a spell to relieve the headache. They seemed in a hurry, so they didn't obliviate me, but they were talking about it . . ."

"They just let you go?"

"They said you-know-who wanted nothing with me. Just those memories and that they'll find me wherever I go . . ."

"They _told_ you that?" Severus asked, bewildered.

"Not in so many words, no. They did cast a compulsion charm on me -- one to make me not speak about what happened -- but I was able to resist it, even without my wand. They weren't very strong."

"Do you remember the spell?" Shacklebolt asked as the auror took a roll of parchment from someone behind him and passed it on to Severus.

"Of course," Lupin said. "But I'd really like to get out of here."

"Of course," Severus said, an arm still around Harry's shoulders. Staying in St. Mungos was definitely no longer a possibility.


	39. 3: Divisions

**Disclaimer: Don't own.**

**Chapter 15 - Divisions**

Getting out of St. Mungos unnoticed proved to be nearly impossible. It was a feat in itself just for Severus to find his way safely to the apothecary to ask for the sight potion directions. If Severus hadn't been in such a hurry, he probably would have gotten it quicker. Threats didn't sit well with most wizards in a hospital.

They hurried Harry out of the hospital, the boy's eyes wide. It was quite obvious he was unaware of the situation -- even Dumbledore wasn't sure of the extent the hospital was compromised -- but their rushing behavior ignited something in Harry that made him hard to keep calm.

"I don't understand," Harry proclaimed after a rough apparation to the road off the manor. Lupin rushed ahead to open the door, holding it still as Severus led his son into the house. It was Lupin, who was watching Harry closely, who noticed first that Harry was having trouble walking.

"Harry, are you feeling alright?" he asked, closing and locking the door before following them into the living room. Harry paid him no mind in favor of observing the sofa he had sat down on.

"Why do you ask, Lupin?" Severus asked.

"He was walking strangely. As if he was dizzy. I'm going to make him some soup." Lupin got up and left as Severus turned and watched Harry watch his own hand pet the chair.

"Harry, are you dizzy?"

"Dad?" Harry asked him, suddenly sounding very small.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Is this real?"

"Harry," Severus said, and when he didn't look up at him, Severus took his hand, bringing the focus on him, not the couch. "It's real. I promise you."

That seemed to have been the word that broke the spell, because immediately, increasingly, tears came to Harry's eyes and within a minute, he crying.

Severus stood there, suddenly feeling out of place. Had Harry ever cried? He didn't remember him ever . . . Vaguely, he _did_ remember his son crying, near when they first started to get along. It seemed like an eternity, though, and he still didn't know what to do. Struggling, he tried to remember what he had done that first time. Giving up, Severus sat down and pulled Harry into a tight hug. This startled Harry, who jumped back, accidentally hitting Severus, who in turn stood up again and backed away.

It wasn't a reaction he expected, although now he knew he should have known it would be there. Harry spent months with _Mulciber._ Severus didn't want to dwell on what could possibly have happened to cause the start, but he recognized the necessity of finding out the truth . . . Eventually. Right now . . .

"Harry," he said stepping a bit closer when his son didn't make any sudden movements. "Harry, it's me."

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry, Harry."

"He . . ."

"Who, Harry?" Severus asked when Harry started shaking his head, the boy's eyes closed.

"The man," he said, sitting back, bringing his legs up onto the sofa and wrapping his arms around them. "He . . . I-I can't."

Severus was glad when Lupin came into the room, carrying a tray -- although where he found the tray was beyond Severus -- full of food. He was sure Lupin would know better how to deal with the situation, because Severus, although, probably, he alone of the Order could surmise what had happened, he had know idea what he could possibly _do_ about it.

Perhaps they did need a healer from the psych ward at Mungos. The problem there, though, was no one was on the 'to trust' list.

Severus knew the look he gave Lupin was pathetic, but he was confused and feeling helpless and he just wanted Harry to _stop hurting_.

Lupin apparently took the hint, though, because the werewolf set the tray down on the table and sat down next to Harry, albeit nearly a foot away.

"Harry?" Lupin asked. "Are you hungry?"

Harry didn't answer. Yet again, the boy was staring off and petting the couch. Suddenly, his eyes went wide as he spotted the hot soup and sandwiches.

"It's time to eat, Harry." Harry still hesitated grabbing for any of the food, so Lupin picked one of the sandwiches and handed it to him. "It's alright, Harry, I made them especially for you. I wasn't sure how much you could eat, so . . ."

Even more unfortunately, Harry seemed to back away even more than that, and Severus couldn't help but close his eyes and sigh, a pain beginning in his chest. Harry's reaction to that just proved to Severus what kind of torture Mulciber used. It sickened Severus to the point that he wasn't sure which feeling was stronger -- running to the bathroom to lose all he had to eat that day or run off immediately and find Mulciber and _kill him_.

"Harry," Lupin continued as Severus did his best to hold on to the limited control he had of his emotions at that moment. "You'll get sick if you don't eat. You're already so skinny." Lupin was nearly pleading with Harry by that point. The change in tone must have helped, because he reached for the sandwich quite easily, and ate it much too fast.

After a pause -- maybe to see if anything would happen -- Harry easily ate the rest of the food and Severus was rather surprised he managed to finish it without getting sick.

"Are you still hungry, Harry?" Severus asked, and after a slight hesitation, he shook her head.

"'m tired, though," he said, and as if to demonstrate, Harry sat back and closed his eyes slowly.

"Come on, then, Harry," Lupin said, tugging gently at Harry's arm to wake him. "You can sleep in your bed."

"Okay," was the only reply they received, and Harry made no effort to move from his spot.

Automatically, Severus sighed in frustration and Lupin shot him a look of anger. Severus just glared back. He wasn't irritated with Harry, he just had no idea where to go from here. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Harry even more. The werewolf obviously sensed his hesitation because he shot him another look before he started pulled on the boy's arm again, this time a bit harder in order to make him stand. At first, Harry tried to pull slightly away -- very slightly, but it was quite obvious from his now-open eyes that he wanted to flee -- but he calmed when Lupin quietly told him it was alright.

It was then that the anger started to build up again, but this time at Lupin. _You're being irrational, _he told himself, trying his best not to lash out at the man right there and help Harry up to his room.

He decided to wait until Harry _was _in bed before doing anything. Perhaps he would be calm enough, then . . .

It was easy for Lupin to put Harry to bed. The boy was asleep even before he was fully laying down, so all that was needed was for him to be covered up. Afterwards, Lupin looked at him with a dark, scrutinizing glare before he announced he was going to the kitchen.

With Lupin gone, Severus went to the bedside and brushed Harry's hair, which was now long enough to cover his eyes, aside. He held one of his hands for a few moments before giving it a squeeze and leaving the room, leaving the door open and lighting several lamps outside so he wouldn't feel trapped as he would should he wake in a completely dark room.

Down in the kitchen, Lupin looked even more furious than Severus felt.

"What was that about?" the man demanded.

"Go away, Lupin," he snapped back, but all that did was pull Lupin closer . . . Up to his face, closer.

"You were explaining to _us _how Harry should be treated right now . . . And yet it's you who are doing everything completely opposite!"

Something in him snapped. Angry, Severus slammed Lupin back into the wall behind him, hard enough to cause a small ring of dust fall from the wall to the floor.

Severus was going to say something while he did that. He _wanted_ to, instead of just standing there, his own face inches from the werewolves. Lupin's look was menacing, though -- very dangerous and so unlike the man -- and there was also the matter of Lupin's hand pressing against Severus' throat. There, warning him that at one wrong move, he could easily tighten his hand and choke him.

It wasn't a pleasant thought.

Finally, Lupin pushed Severus back, a somewhat disgusted look on his face.

"Sn--"

"Forget it," Severus said before Lupin could start his sentence. "Let's just forgot. Harry needs both of us, we don't need to . . ." Severus looked down, refusing to make eye contact, "_kill_ each other over this." He knew he looked more pathetic than repentant, his harsh voice suggested anything but, but he truly didn't mean to do that.

"I don't--"

"We _have_ to. And I believe I remember _Ms. Tonks_ specifically stating that you are to move out of this house unscathed." Severus paused and looked up, into the werewolves eyes. Nothing good, they said. "Stay or not. It's up to you." Severus said quietly. He saw in the man's eyes that he was thinking that maybe staying around wasn't the best thing to do. He had his 'cure' now -- and the Dark Lord doesn't have much used for him yet, so the only reason for his to stay was because of Harry.

Why, he asked himself, did he care whether or not Lupin stayed about?

Severus turned around, every bit intent on just sitting and watching Harry sleep for as long as that would be, but Lupin seemed to have different plans. The werewolf wanted to keep _talking_.

"I'm not sure what to do either, Severus," he said. "Harry's . . . different. Not really there, is he? And . . . He's hallucinating, not believing this is real, and . . . He's afraid of being touched."

Severus didn't turn around. What Lupin listed was true . . . But there was probably much more wrong that they hadn't seen.

"I know you don't want me here, Severus," Lupin said bitterly. "Especially now, but . . ." _But I do want you here, _Severus thought without thinking and realized it was true. He had gotten used to Lupin's presence, as strange as that seemed. "I can't leave Harry right now. You're too stressed and being the only one who knows what probably went on down there, you can't take care of yourself anymore, much less Harry."

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," he snapped, finally turning around to face Lupin again.

"No," he said, irritatingly calm. "I've been running behind you, cleaning, making sure you eat and dress each day. Making sure you'll go to your classes to teach. And when I was too sick, Minerva watched you. Or Albus. Why do you think I was at Hogwarts everyday even though I was living here?"

"Research," Severus emphasized.

"Part of it. But you were too caught up in your own plans you forgot about or got irritated about everything else. And we had to put up with your shit _every day_. And now that Harry's back, you've frozen and retreated and you still don't know what you're doing. I need to stay here for Harry. He needs me here more than I need to leave."

Lupin didn't look at Severus as he moved quickly past him. Severus, not knowing what to say to that, stood there, unmoving and staring at a now non-existent shadow of a person.

- - - - - - -

Remus climbed the stairs, slowly, no longer having the energy to rush up quickly. He looked over his shoulder on his ascent to see if Snape was coming in his direction. He didn't even come out of the kitchen yet.

Remus almost felt bad. After all, Harry _was_ his son. But the way he had been acting during the past few months had been unacceptable, and now that Harry was back, he seemed to be getting worse. If it wasn't for Harry, he wouldn't have stayed at the manor. He was planning on buying his own place, or at least renting somewhere nicer, and then asking Tonks to marry him. The last thing he needed was more horrible behavior from someone who didn't want him around. But Harry was his friend, and needed his help now more than ever.

Remus passed by Harry's room, the door still open. Peering inside, Harry seemed to be in a deep sleep, so he continued past to his own room.

Over the past couple months, he had brought most of his own belongings to the manor, especially since he was no longer renting the flat. The rest of it was at Tonk's place. But here, he had more or less made himself at home. The room, although not messy, wasn't very neat, and he decided it was a good time to start packing his things. That way, he could start looking for a home and when Harry got better, he would be ready to move. _Perhaps Tonks would be willing to take the extra things, _he thought.

- - - - -

Severus walked into the living room to pick up his book when the floo flared. Wand out immediately, he almost cursed Albus as he stepped out of the fireplace. After he saw who it was, he almost cursed him anyway.

"Ah, Severus, I wasn't expecting you to be near the fireplace. How is Harry?"

"How do you think?" Severus snapped. Dumbledore looked slightly taken back, but otherwise took no notice.

"I take it he isn't well?"

Severus huffed, but didn't answer, waiting for the old man to get to his point.

"Remus is still here, I suppose?" Severus turned his glare at the man at this point. The last person he wanted to hear about at the moment was Lupin. "Has something happened?"

"Nothing," Severus said, catching himself before he yelled it. Still, a disappoint look appeared in Albus' eyes and Severus turned and left. If he wanted to talk to Lupin, he could very well find the werewolf himself. Lupin was no different than from when he was still in Hogwarts. Just followed along with whomever he needed to in order to get what he wanted. And apparently, all he wanted was a temporary home and to be near Harry.

Severus' mind wandered to the conversations they've had recently. Then man had always seemed amiable, except when the headaches got extremely bad. The few attempts on the make a strong headache potion which none had any effect, and after Severus ran out of ideas, he stopped brewing the varieties. He still managed to sneak in some research on the manner when he was waiting for certain aspects of a potion to finish. But Lupin didn't care about that, apparently. He was perfectly satisfied taking what Severus would give him, but would Lupin do the same?

Apparently not. He just started criticizing him the moment an opportunity arose.

Severus resisted the urge to kick the final step as he reached the top of the stairs and went to read in Harry's room while the boy slept, seemingly peacefully.

A blessing, if nothing else was.

- - - -

Remus was packing when Albus knocked on the door frame. Albus felt a bit more worried at that. _Perhaps it was an argument that lead to Severus' bad behavior?_ he thought. Remus' expression suggested that was the case.

"May I ask what put both of you in such a horrible mood when Harry has finally come home?"

Remus looked up from the trunk he was organizing by hand, startled. The man hesitated before answering, seemingly unable to hold in his feelings on the matter.

"Snape is nothing but a bastard. He's even worse now that Harry's home."

_Oh, dear_, he thought. Albus had assumed that over the course of the months Harry was missing, Severus and Remus had gotten close. They sure spent quite a bit of time together. At least, Albus knew that Severus would often come to him to ask if he knew where Remus was.

He realized now that it was never the opposite. The young man would always find something else to do if he could not find Severus immediately. Now, Albus saw a clear problem and felt a pain in his chest for Severus. The boy never had many friends he would seek out, but he could tell that Severus had grown an . . . attachment, for the lack of a better word, to his old school-boy enemy.

Not for the first time lately, Albus felt himself lost about what to do about the situation, and he felt he should do _something_.

"I believe he's merely stressed." Albus shortly debated whether or not to continue. "There have been few people that Severus has come to care about."

"Perhaps if he didn't fail to be nice once in awhile, he'd have an easier time," Remus snapped. Then sighed, backing up and sitting on the bed. "I'm sorry. It's just so frustrating with him."

"Friendships are never easy, especially in during the times which we need them the most."

"Frie . . . You think we're friends, Albus? The man can barely stand me and it's nearly impossible to be near him," Remus pointed out to him. Albus gave him a sad smile.

"I assumed it was so. He's still allowing you to live in his home and he seeks your company when he does not wish to be alone. The last _is_ what friendship is about, is it not?"

"Or it's simply two men with a common goal," Lupin said, not looking up to meet his eye.

Albus sighed, feeling this argument fruitless.

"Are you leaving now, then?" he asked, and Remus looked up, surprise clear on his face.

"Of course not. I can't leave Harry like this. And S. . . _Severus_ isn't helping matters any. He has no patience left to him, if he had any to begin with."

"Then, may I ask why you are packing?"

"I'm just sending my extra belongings to Dora," Remus answered, standing up again. "There's no need for me to keep it here when I plan to move out when Harry is better."

"I see. And you can't just store them here? There are plenty of unused rooms; I am sure Severus wouldn't have any problems that."

"And how sure is sure?" Remus asked.

- - - - -

Albus left shortly after discussing Harry, but Remus' mind was still on Snape. He constantly made sarcastic comments, avoided Remus when possible, and always made a big deal about helping someone even in the slightest bit when he had other things to do -- _especially _when Remus was involved. Snape only thought about himself or Harry, and here Albus found it strange no one wanted to be _friends_ with the bitter man?

Remus let the trunk slam shut before he touched his wand to the lock in order to lock it. Now, he was starting to have doubts about sending his belongings to Tonks. Albus, interfering again. He always knew the right thing to say that would eventually convince you to do what he wants.

Damn the old man.

**

* * *

**

**A/N (September 24th, 2009): There's only 3 chapters left! One is written, and one is in the process of being written. They'll be posted (one a week) when all three are finished. I think they're all rather long chapters, though (they're handwritten, so I can't really tell how long they are), and there's a lot of stuff to put in them. **

**ANYWAY, since some is written, here's a preview . . . a couple short excerpts from the next chapter, The Cat.**

_"What do you want?" Harry asked._

_"We want you back," the cat answered._

_"We just want you better, Harry. Drink the broth," Remus said, at his right side._

_"Why?" Harry asked, Ignoring Remus is favor of getting an answer from the cat._

_"Because it's been awhile since you've eaten," his father replied, somewhere to his left._

_"You have a duty," the cat said._

_"I don't want to. You can't make me."_

__ - _ - _ - _

_Harry continued to stare at the cat, feeling what little energy he had drain out of him. He just wanted all this to _stop_._

_"Why aren't you answering?" Remus asked. "Why isn't he answering?"_

_"Harry?" his father said, turning him around to face him. Harry didn't meet his father's eyes, and instead slowly turned to face the cat again. "What are you looking at, Harry? What's there?"_

_"Go to Hogwarts," the cat suddenly said. "Then it will be closer to being alright."  
_


	40. 3: The Cat

**Chapter 16 - The Cat**

Harry woke, knowing he should be getting up, but as he was extremely comfortable, warm and not hurting, he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. The comfort, he told himself, was worth any pain he would receive later.

Finally, he did manage to roll over to his stomach -- getting caught in the blankets around him in the process -- and open his eyes.

He was startled, at the least. He could . . . see. He turned around again, this time to sit up, and Harry looked around his room. He couldn't . . . remember _why_ he was surprised he couldn't see. He was in his room, in his bed . . . The door was open and there were lights lit outside his door, but everything looks normal. Shrugging, he tossed his blankets aside and got up, walking barefoot toward the door.

Harry paused at the door, foot held in midair. Something felt wrong. Feeling extremely uneasy, he walked back to his bed and made it neatly.

_He smoothed the covers on the high bed . . . _

Harry stepped away from the bed as the cat jumped up, sat down slowly and stared at him. Harry stared back, waiting for what it would say this time. Sometimes, the cat would say something helpful. Other times, it would tell a story that never seemed to make much sense. Usually, though, the cat wouldn't say anything; just sat there and stared.

"You shouldn't have cut us off," the cat finally said. "You weren't ready to be on your own; it wasn't time. You feel empty, don't you? Yearning to fill in a bottomless hole. Mind, you've done well, to a point, but _we're_ that hole. You can't follow a path when the wood's been burned down, now can you?"

"How do I . . ." Harry paused when he voice sounded raspy. The cat knew his thoughts, anyway, so finishing the sentence wasn't necessary.

"You can't. You have to just learn to follow us _this _way until you are able to accept us again.

_What way?_ Harry asked himself before he reasoned that it was the _cat _he had to follow.

The cat?

"Who are you?" Harry asked, confused about where his own train of thought led him.

"You _know_ who we are. _You_ have a destiny. A path you must take but would be unable to follow without us." The cat quieted and cocked its head to the side. "You need to go back soon," the cat continued.

"Harry!" Someone said behind him and Harry jumped, startled, and turned around to see Lupin, looking disheveled, with a glass of water in his hand. "You're awake!"

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Harry looked back on the bed, but the cat had disappeared.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly.

"Are you feeling alright? You've been asleep for a few days. I was . . . We were . . . Well, in any case, you must be hungry. Let's go downstairs, and I'll make you some soup, hmm? That sound good?"

Harry first moved his eyes to look at Remus, than his head even more slowly. "Yeah," he answered, not knowing if he wanted to eat, nor could he tell whether he was feeling well. Well enough, he supposed. He was awake and standing. A few minutes after Remus left, Harry followed and met him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Come along, Harry. I was thinking maybe you would like a chicken broth? Beef might be a little too much at the moment."

Harry didn't respond as Remus started to walk away again, only to stop short when he realized Harry wasn't following, but looking around. There wasn't much to look at from their vantage point, but Harry's eyes took in as much detail as they took. He never realized that the walls were not an off-white, but a very light bluish gray. He never noticed that the ceiling where he stood was higher than it was in the next room over.

Remus tugged on his elbow and Harry complied to being led into the kitchen.

The tense feeling that arose woke Harry out of his daze. He looked back and forth between Remus, who was standing, still with the glass in his hand, staring at Harry's father while his dad, who was sitting at the table with a tea, teapot and newspaper, was staring back at Remus. Both were . . . what? Hesitant to move and reluctant to give up the staring game.

Harry wondered what had happened, because although they've never really liked each other, this feeling was bordering on contempt.

"I'm warming some broth for Harry," Remus finally said, taking the plain broth out of the icebox and pouring some into a saucepan. Severus stood to take some cream out of the icebox to pour into his tea and sat down, ignoring Remus.

"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" his father asked.

Harry's eye caught a movement and he turned toward the corner closest to the stove, where the cat was licking his paw. He watched for a few minutes until his father placed a hand on his shoulder, startling him.

"Why aren't you answering, Harry?" he asked, and Harry wondered what the question was. Harry shrugged, compelled not to speak of the cat despite his strong wish to share the information. "What were you staring at?" the questioning continued.

"Nothing. Just thinking," he mumbled. "May I go outside?"

Not getting a response immediately, Harry looked up at his father. He looked hurt. Well, maybe more torn than hurt. Finally, though, it was Remus who spoke up. "It may be too dangerous," he said slowly. "The grounds aren't as secure as the manor. Did you want to go downstairs after you ate? Maybe fly a little bit?"

Harry caught the look that Severus gave Remus, but he wasn't quite able to decipher it. He decided to think about it later, though. "What about at Hogwarts? The grounds are safe there."

"With all the students . . ." Severus started to say, but he paused and seemed to have to reach for the words. "I could speak to Albus. See if you could stay there for a couple weeks with me. I can't take all that time off from teaching, in any case."

Harry just nodded, opting not to look at either men, but at the cat who was now pacing on the kitchen table in front of him.

A few minutes later, Remus guided him to a chair and a bowl of broth appeared in front of him.

The smell made him slightly nauseous, but he managed to pick up the spoon and stir the liquid a few times. The cat, apparently not satisfied with being ignored, jumped up on the table, sniffed the broth and sat down. The cat's stare was intense, but Harry just stared back. What with the sick feeling and the cat, Remus and Severus staring at him, drinking any of the soup felt impossible, so he continued to stare.

When the cat wouldn't back down, Harry became increasingly agitated. "What do you want?"

"We want you back," the cat answered.

"We just want you better, Harry. Drink the broth," Remus said to his right.

"Why?" Harry asked, ignoring Remus in favor of getting answered.

"Because it's been awhile since you've eaten," his father said, somewhere off to his left.

"You have duty," the cat replied, tilting it's head to the side. "We chose you, and you must follow through."

"I don't want to," Harry told the cat back. "You can't make me."

"Are you not feeling well?" someone asked, and Harry barely felt the hand that landed on his shoulder.

"We can't," the cat said angrily; its voice was nearly a hiss. "But you'll follow your destiny anyway. You have no choice. You _are_ one of the chosen."

"I'm not," Harry whispered. "I can't be."

"What's wrong? Do you need to lay down?"

The cat stood and paced to the back of the table and then back to Harry. "You always have been, since the day your father promised you to us. Your little trick of disconnecting us proves we've chosen you well, but you can never hide forever. Even the one known to you as the Dark Lord cannot stay parted from us in the end."

Harry continued to stare at the cat, feeling what little energy he had drain out of him. He just wanted all this to _stop_.

"Why aren't you answering?" Remus asked. It was a few moments before he continued. "Why isn't he answering?"

"Harry," his father said, turning him around to face him. Harry didn't meet his father's eyes and instead slowly turned to face the cat again. "What are you looking at, Harry? What's there?"

"Go to Hogwarts," the cat said. "We'll meet better there. Then it will be closer to being all right."

The cat finally decided it was time to leave, because it jumped off the table and pranced into the next room, out of sight.

"Dad?"

"Harry?"

"Can I go to Hogwarts with you? When you go back to teach?"

Severus didn't answer right away, and Harry didn't look at him. He didn't know why he was compelled to listen to the cat -- the _cat_ -- but he had to admit it would be nice to be at Hogwarts again, at least for a little while.

Until he was ready to go back to training to become an auror. _If_ he would ever be ready.

"That might be best. I don't want to be leaving you alone quite yet, and I can't stay away from the school for too long if the students are going to learn anything this term."

"Are you sure you want to be at Hogwarts, Harry? There are a lot of children there. You might not get any rest," Remus said to him. "And he wouldn't be alone," he said to Severus. "I'm still here."

"Yes, and I'm sure you'll take care of him real well between your hallucinations and Death Eaters keeping an eye on you."

"It'd be safer here than at Hogwarts."

"How? The wards on Hogwarts are much stronger than here," Severus pointed out heatedly.

"Yes, of course, but there are a thousand students there and some of them are bound to have been told by their parents to keep an eye out for Harry Potter."

"If he wants to come to Hogwarts, he comes to Hogwarts."

Harry slumped further into his seat.

"Would the headmaster even allow it?" Remus asked. "He's no longer a student."

"Tell them you want to go to Hogwarts," the cat said, sticking it's head around the corner.

"I'm a professor. Family is allowed to live with the staff. And even if not, he would make an exception in this case."

"Even though the wards at Hogwarts are stronger doesn't mean he'll be safer. And you won't be able keep watch at all times to make sure he's safe!" Remus said, sounding desperate. Harry was just about to tell them to never mind, that he would stay at the manor, that he was just going back to training, so going to Hogwarts would be inconvenient.

There was a brief moment of confusion at the subject of _going back_ to training when he didn't remember ever really stopping, but he brushed it aside.

"Just tell them!" the cat hissed, back up on the table. "We can't have you messing up everything we've worked for just because you want everything to be _easy_. We need you to come to Hogwarts."

"Stop telling me what to do!" Harry suddenly yelled, and realized too late that his father and Remus would hear him, too. Still angry, Harry continued his rant, this time aimed at the two older wizards in the room. "I don't need anyone else telling me what to do. I have enough of that already, and I don't need to be babysat! I just want to go to Hogwarts for a week or so, and then . . . I'll probably go back to the Ministry so I can continue my training."

The two adults stared at him and Harry pushed back his chair and stood up, ignoring the dizzy spell that came over him, and walked out of the kitchen, into the living room. Failing anything else, he landed hard on the sofa, feeling exhausted.

Harry woke up somewhat later, but from the strange, vivid dream he just had, he deduced it must have not been more than a few minutes. Trying to get comfortable, Harry brought up his legs onto the sofa, curling up and laying down. He was like that for quite some time when he began to wonder about what he was going to do. Was he just going to walk into the Forbidden Dungeon -- just like that -- and give himself over to the Voices?

After _everything_ they had done to get away from them.

Harry opened his eyes to find the cat on the back of the sofa, staring at him, and Harry felt compelled to do as it said.

Harry closed his eyes again, doing his best to avoid thinking about the Voices. Instead, his mind traveled to his father and Remus. He knew they didn't like each other completely, but . . . to be honest, they were fighting with each other similar to how Hermione and Ron would fight before they stopped disliking each other. Bickering about who was right and refusing to back down. _What happened when I was gone?_ he asked himself.

_Wait_, Harry thought to himself. _Where did I go?_ Frustrated at the fact that he was having these brief thoughts that he couldn't explain, Harry curled up more. He didn't want to think about it.

In any case, he decided whatever was happening between them could not be anything big, as Remus was still living at the manor. It was big enough that they couldn't be in the same room without fighting, though, and he hated it.

Harry was deep in thought when someone came in and put their hand on his shoulder. Instead of jumping, Harry froze, and it took him a few seconds to realize he wasn't in any danger.

"Harry?" his father asked and walked around the sofa to come stand in front of him. "How are you feeling?" Harry shrugged, tired of everyone asking him that. After all, he wasn't quite sure how he felt, and with the cat still staring down at him, he felt rather anxious. "Harry?" his father asked again, and Harry forced himself to look at him. "You said you don't need anyone else telling you want to do. Who else . . . Who is telling you to do something?"

Harry shrugged again. _Everyone_, Harry thought. It would be easier, he realized, if everyone would just go away. Or if he just went to bed.

"You know I'm here to help you, Harry? You just need to tell me what the matter is. You understand that?"

One more time, he gave a shrugged. He didn't know what to say. Would telling Severus what the matter was help him? He doubted it, especially as Severus was talking to him as if he was a child. Just what he needed.

"If you-"

"When are you going back to Hogwarts?" Harry interrupted.

"Tomorrow, I suppose," he replied after a pause. "If you are planning on coming along, there is no point in me staying here."

"Good." _I'll be able to get this done sooner._ "I should pack." Harry stood before his father could object and he quickly went to his room.

- - -

Severus stared after his son for a few moments before sitting on the sofa himself. It wasn't long before Lupin came into the room and started asking about Harry.

"Where did he go? You just got here? Is he alright?"

"He's perfectly fine," Severus lied easily, not wanting Lupin to be the one helping his son recover . . . even though it was obvious it was going to take a lot more work and concentration to help him. Harry wouldn't even talk to him. Perhaps it will be different when Lupin was out of the picture. Throwing him out of the manor would be difficult, he realized, because it might alienate Harry even more, but perhaps he could convince him to stay at Hogwarts for longer than the boy planned to.

"He is?" Lupin asked doubtfully. Severus inwardly smiled, feeling good at confusing the werewolf. "But he . . . doesn't seem alright." He sounded defeated, almost.

"He's just an eighteen year old boy," Severus replied smoothly. "He wants to do things his own way. He's not going to need the adults in his life forever. He wants to come to Hogwarts because he needs someplace more familiar to rest for a few days. Says he trusts me to make sure he'll be safe and he won't have to worry . . ."

"Oh," Lupin said, and Severus felt a twinge of guilt, in addition to the pleasure he was feeling, at the sorrow in Lupin's voice. It didn't matter, he reasoned with himself. Harry was _his_ son, not Lupin's. He really had no place in raising Harry. The only reason he put up with Lupin was because Harry liked him . . . And didn't Lupin have a girlfriend to ask to marry him? Shouldn't he be working, living with her and _not _living at Severus' house?

So why was he still there?

- - -

The next morning, Remus woke to Harry standing in his doorway.

"Hi, Remus," Harry said.

"Harry," Remus greeted while sitting up slowly, vaguely remembering Severus' words from the day before in his tiredness.

"I'll probably be back in a week. There's a few things at Hogwarts I forgot, so I'll rest for awhile there after I get them. I'm going to start my training again when I come back."

"So soon?" he asked, looking over Harry as if he expected him to be physically weak. There was no evidence of that in his appearance, though. The young man was now dressed in jeans and a dark blue jumper, his hair combed backed. "It's hasn't been very long . . ."

"I know, but . . . I need to. They . . ." Harry trailed off and Remus wanted to know what was on his mind, but with what Snape had told him about what Harry said, he didn't want to chance pushing him away. If it _was _true, although Remus had his suspicions that it wasn't. "I should go," Harry said suddenly and he left too quickly to try to convince him to stay. It was only a little bit after the young man left did he realize that he had been glancing at the corner of the room the entire time he was there. Nervously. Or, maybe more annoyed than nervous. Curious, he went to the corner, but there was nothing strange about it -- either magically or non-magically.

He knew he should mention it to Snape, but the thought of talking to the man wasn't something he particularly wanted to do.

"Good bye, Harry," Remus said to an empty room, hoping the kid knew what he was doing and that if something was wrong, he would tell _someone._

* * *

They traveled to Hogwarts by floo, where Dumbledore was waiting for them. He asked Harry a few questions, which Harry shrugged off, before he finally dismissed them like students who had misbehaved.

"I have to prepare my classes for tomorrow," Severus said as they walked together to Severus' rooms. "Will you be okay for a few hours?"

"Yeah," Harry answered, annoyed, then immediately wished he hadn't. As much as he wanted to get stuff done, he realized he really didn't want to be alone. "Dad?" he asked, then paused as some young kid hurried passed them and continued down the corridor with only a glance over her shoulder.

"What is it?"

"Why . . . can't I remember?"

Harry continued walking a few steps before he realized his father had stopped.

"What can't you remember?"

"What happened," Harry stated plainly. "Where I went. Why I haven't been training. Why I feel so . . . tired."

"You don't remember? Mulciber and the room you were kept in?"

Harry thought before answering. "Not really. I kind of remember a bed, but . . . I can't remember what it looks like."

"Probably because you had been blinded." Harry heard his father sigh and he turned to face him. "Harry, you were kidnapped months ago on an assignment for your auror training. We found you days ago. You can't remember anything?"

"No," Harry said. None of it sounded right. Well, maybe an assignment. Hadn't he visited Marge?

"Perhaps he fed you a potion and it has worn off. It wouldn't be surprising, then, that you wouldn't remembering anything surrounding what has happened recently."

"I don't . . ." Harry rubbed his forehead with both his hands. He was starting to get a headache. "Never mind." Severus came up to him and put both hands on his shoulders.

"I could postpone my class work, if you wish me to stay with you, Harry."

"No, no. It's alright," he replied quickly. "I just . . . I'm confused." Not wanting to talk about it anymore, Harry continued walking before he realized that it must be during the school term if his father had to prepare for classes. "What's the date?"

"October 20th."

_Oh_.

They walked in silence the rest of the way and when they arrived, Severus made sure that Harry was still okay with being left alone before he left. Taking a deep breath in, Harry put down his bag next to the sofa and sat down. It was chilly, so he charmed the fireplace to burn and looked up at the painting above the hearth.

It was strange. He remembered painting it for Severus for Christmas, but he couldn't remember much of anything recently. And it was nearing the end of _October_, which meant that he couldn't remember nearly the last three months.

Wanting to stop thinking about it -- _again_ -- Harry stood and absentmindedly studied the few things that were on the mantel: a cup of quills, a few bottles of ink and a dark grey and yellow glass ball that Dumbledore had given them last Christmas. It sat in its cushioned box doing absolutely nothing. Dumbledore had claimed, at the time, that it was merely something for decoration, but Severus hadn't believed him. Harry was inclined to side with his father, especially because sometimes you could sense a small aura of magic around the ball.

Picking it up, it gave him a small shock, but he thought nothing of it as he examined it. It always shocked you, whenever you touched it. Severus had finally concluded it was some sort of cleanser because he always felt lighter after holding it. Dumbledore wouldn't ever give them anything harmful, anyway.

Putting the ball down, Harry decided he might as well go to the forbidden dungeon now, while his father was busy, so he slowly made his way to the entrance, relieved that he met no one on the way. At the top of the stairs, he paused.

_Did_ he really want to do this? Deciding not, Harry took a step back only to trip on the cat.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked without thinking.

"I am where you are, boy," the cat said. "You should have realized that by now. Get down there, now. You've wasted enough time already."

The cat trotted down the stairs and Harry reluctantly followed. "Where am I supposed to go, anyway? Last time I was down here, I was lost before . . ." He trailed off, feeling out of place in the dungeon. _Odd_, he decided, looking around. It no longer matched the rest of the castle. Or, maybe it never did, but he was only noticing it now. Deciding to give up asking questions, Harry just followed the cat, examining the stones of the wall.

"Are you calm?" the cat asked.

"Huh?"

"Are you _calm_?" it asked again.

"I . . . suppose," Harry answered. He felt distracted as the cat led him into a room.

"Sit," the cat said, jumping up on a fireplace mantel and sitting itself. Harry sat down on the only chair in the room.

"_**We've been waiting for you,**_" a voice said.

"**It was about time he got here,**" another said.

"What do you want?" Harry managed to ask through the haze.

"We just wanted you here. We weren't connected to you enough through your memory of a cat you barely knew. Now, we will be able to help you more readily.

"**You merely wanted a solid form**."

"Solid form?" Harry questioned, and the cat sighed.

"You see, we can't be connected to you like we were before. Not yet, at least. Now that you're here, we were able to have a closer connection than we've had in the past few months. The connection strengthened enough that we were able to form a solid cat body from your memories."

"**Why are you explaining? He does not need to know**."

"He was interested," the cat said.

"**Enough of this,**" a Voice interrupted. "**Boy, you are here because you must follow your destiny, and if we left you alone, you would get **_**nowhere**_**. You were chosen to take care of the threat. Take care of it.**"

"What threat?" Harry asked. "And why _me_? Does it have to do with my father?"

"**You will do as you are told without question, boy, you understand?**"

"_**Now, now, he's allowed to ask questions. He just shouldn't expect answers. Now go, child. I realize you're confused, but you will have to be for now. We will be with you to guide you and come to your aide if absolutely necessary, but nothing more.**_"

Harry wondered if any of this made any sense at all, and he had strange flashes of a movie that Dudley had watched once, where this lady was telling someone that 'it will all be clear to you soon' . . .

"**It will never be clear, boy. Not with how little you are able to comprehend.**"

Harry glared at the cat and then sighed. How was it that he always found himself caught up with this stuff? And he was just going _along _with it? _Why is it that I feel no wish to argue?_ Harry wondered.

"Just go!" the cat yelled at him. Glad for it to be over with, Harry stood at left the room to find the stairs out of the dungeons in front of him. Glancing behind, he saw that there was nothing but a corridor behind him.

_Unsettling_.

Out of the dungeon, he started to get mad, making him think they put him under some sort of calming spell, which made him even angrier. Kicking the wall, Harry sat down in the empty corridor, bringing his knees in.

He didn't want to do this anymore.

* * *

**A/N: Turns out this story is going to be a few more chapter than I intended. Maybe five/six more chapters. I have about 40 some more pages written, but not typed up (this was a little over 8 pages, if that gives you a clue to how much is left), and there is still more to the story to finish. I meant to have it all finished by now, but alas, real life overtakes all. **


	41. 3: Decisions

**What's happened so far:**

IM 1 & 2, Harry and Snape learn they Snape is Harry's father and although they end up trying to ignore the fact, circumstances (Dursleys dying and the Ministry attempting to find a guardian for him themselves) Snape takes guardianship over him. The Voices, unknown to anyone involved who they actually are, start talking to Harry and Severus does his best to help Harry escape them only to learn that when he was in school, he promised the Voices that a child of his would be under their control because he never wanted any children in the first place. Eventually, they do manage to separate Harry from them (mostly). During school, Severus encourages Harry in his studies and Harry pushes himself (first because the Voices are trying to prepare him).

After school, Harry tests for his Potions Mastery (and passes) and starts training to be an auror. During a practice assignment to determine why a picture of the Dursleys was being carried by a random person in the wizarding world. He's kidnapped and held in a room for several months by Mulciber, one of Voldemort's favorite torturers who's known for 'brainwashing' people.

After Harry is rescued, he is brought to St. Mungos, which they find to be mostly controlled by Death Eaters, so they must sneak out. Harry started to see a talking cat during his time with Mulciber (although he was blind during the time, so he only knew it was a cat because the Voices took it from his memories with his parents).

After a long sleep, Harry wakes up with no/very little memory of what's happened in the past few months because of precautions Mulciber took. Severus and Remus are no longer on the best of term. The cat convinces Harry to go to Hogwarts and into the Forbidden Dungeon (where the Voices seem to reside).

This chapter starts when Harry had just left the Dungeon.

* * *

**Chapter 17 - Decisions**

Harry stood, but he didn't move anywhere. He supposed he could go back to his room and sleep; he was rather exhausted, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to. His dad was probably still working and he wasn't in any sort of mood to go to the library or anything, and since he wasn't sure if he was allowed to visit his friends during the school day -- he was only a visitor, after all -- he was sure that left almost nothing to do.

Harry stopped and looked up, realizing he had walked to the Entrance Hall in his musings. Sighing, he decided to walk down to the quidditch pitch with the hope that there was a game or practice going on he could watch.

There wasn't, so he found himself leaning against one of the goal poles, thinking that it might be fun to fly around up there again. Wondering what he was going to do at Hogwarts for an entire week if he wasn't allowed to fly, Harry started looking for Madam Hooch who, after trudging all the way to her office and back, turned out to be in the broom shed the entire time.

He walked up behind her, a _little _suspicious that he hadn't seen anyone -- not a student, professor or even Filch's cat -- but decided they must be in class or something, then he realized he didn't know what day it actually was.

"No students allowed down here until . . . Oh. Mr. Potter," she said, turning around. "That's a surprise. I had expected you to be yet another student asking a question. I didn't know you were at Hogwarts." She eyed him suspiciously, and Harry realized he still felt like a student, no matter that he wasn't one any longer.

"I'm visiting my dad," he gave as his reason for being there. She nodded, but she didn't look to believe him.

"Are you well?" she asked, and Harry nodded.

"I'm fine, Madam Hooch. Just visiting." There was an uncomfortable pause in which Harry debated going back to the castle and opting to take a nap, but the flying instructor spoke again.

"I heard you were in training to become an auror. Is that still your plan, or have you decided to look at other occupations? It was in the news about your potions mastery. I'm sure there are plenty of people willing to hire for potions."

Harry felt a surge of annoyance at that. "I'm still in the auror training program," He told her, hearing the annoyance come out in his tone, he sighed inwardly. "It's what I want to do."

She nodded. "I suppose a break would be in order, though. Of course," she said, answering her own question. "You know, we have an ex-auror visiting right now. Visiting the headmaster, I suppose, and working on wards. Something like that. But perhaps you'd like to speak with him? He's a chatty fellow with lots of stories. I heard him talking to Severus, and I remember him saying he'd like to meet you."

"Oh," Harry replied, not sure if he wanted to talk to someone who wanted to meet _Harry Potter_.

"Oh, not like that," she said, and Harry thought what he was thinking must have shown on his face. "He said something to the effect of wanting to meet someone with as much talent and ambition as yourself. Of course . . ." Hooch paused, as if searching for the right words. "You were missing at the time, so Severus refused to say much on the topic."

"Oh," Harry said again, looking back at the castle and feeling a bit guilty. He never really gave much thought to how his dad must have been feeling about all this. But then, Harry wasn't exactly sure what 'all this' was about. Just bits and pieces of stuff here and there, and . . . Feelings he couldn't get rid of.

The feelings were probably the worst, yet he _still_ couldn't understand what they were.

"Yes," she said quickly. "Well, Mr. Tippart is usually working in the antechamber off the Great Hall. If he's there, I'm sure he wouldn't mind a brief interruption." Pausing again, she gave Harry another questioning look. "Was there a reason you were here?"

"Oh. I was . . . wondering if I would be able to borrow a broom for a quick fly, is all."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter. I'm afraid that wouldn't work right now. There's to be a practice in an hour, and I have much to prepare. Everything seems to be failing right now, especially our bludgers. They've been spinning in place instead of going in the direction they've been hit and none of the students are attesting to hexing them. I really should go see someone for help. You wouldn't have experience with that sort of thing, by chance?"

"No, ma'am," Harry answered, not finding a lot of energy to be able to laugh at seeing such a thing. "Thank you, anyway."

Harry turned and left the shed, deciding that he'd stop by the antechamber to see if anyone was there, and maybe afterwards, watch the quidditch practice. On the way to the castle, Harry reached for his pocket absentmindedly, realizing he didn't have his wand. Sure, it had been awhile since he's used it, but he didn't even remember to bring it along? He debated going back to his room to search for it, but when he got back to the school, the cat joined him.

"Where are you going?" the cat asked.

"Don't you know?" Harry asked back.

"I don't know everything," was the reply, and Harry shook his head, not making sense of it. Sometimes it seemed the cat could read his mind, and then there were times like these. Still, something seemed off, but he put it to the back of his mind as he stopped in front of the open door to the antechamber. There _was_ a man inside, with a lot of scrolls on the one table currently adorning the room. He hesitated, but ended up knocking on the door frame.

The man looked up, a look on his face that told Harry he was about to tell the intruder off, but he instead straightened up.

"My word," he said quietly. "It's Harry Potter."

Harry had the sudden urge to duck out just then, but the cat walked into the room, and Harry stopped himself. Not because the cat probably wanted him to talk to the man to see who he was, but because the man looked down at the cat.

That didn't feel right. Perhaps it was merely a coincidence.

"I'm sorry, how terribly rude of me. I am Marcus Tippart. What brings you here?" Harry took a step forward, not sure if he liked the carefulness this man was taking with his words.

"I'm visiting my father," Harry replied. A simple enough answer, Harry determined. There was a slight pause before Tippart responded.

"Are you staying long?"

"Not very, no."

"Oh." Another pause where Harry wondered if this really was a good idea. "So, tell me, Potter -- something I have been wondering -- why would a young man such as yourself -- someone who has extreme talent in potions -- wish to become an auror? If I understand it, you've been nearly killed and have been kidnapped many times, this last one sounding by far the most hazardous and during a routine training assignment, no less! Surely you've gotten tired of all the danger."

"I . . . er . . . I just . . ." Harry paused, trying to get this thoughts together. "It's what I want to do. And I don't really _like_ potions. And I'm better at defense."

"Right. Well, I don't wish to turn you off, but I feel I must warn you; Of all the aurors-in-training I have met, among those who have strong talents in other fields, there has only been one who actually did become an auror. He quit two years later and enrolled in a muggle university because he came to dislike his job so much. He was good, but his heart wasn't in it, you see."

"My heart's in it," Harry responded quickly before he realized those words didn't sound the same coming from his own mouth. "I want to become an auror."

"And what do you think an auror's job entails?"

"Protecting people . . ." Harry answered hesitantly.

"I suppose, in a round about way. Sure, there are the occasional bodyguard situations, but as an auror, you don't see much of what you are protecting. You see the dark side of people, and little much besides. Is that something you think you can handle?"

"Of course," Harry answered, but the more the words sunk he, he started having doubts. Still, he wanted to be an auror. He knew he would be protecting people, and the thought should be enough.

The man nodded, seemingly pleased with something, but he changed the topic. "Is that your cat?"

"Oh, er . . . yeah," Harry answered, surprised that the man actually _did_ see it. "Sort of. I found him recently, and he won't stop following me around."

"Actually, I found you. Took me long enough, too. And this form is female," the cat said, and Harry tried to ignore it. He didn't care about the gender, anyway.

"Have you checked that he is really a cat?" Tippart asked, and Harry nodded, although he hadn't. Besides, he didn't know if it would tell him anything, as the cat wasn't real to begin with. Not really. "Good. You're aware, that's a good sign. Well, I must be getting back to work, but before you go, I was wondering if you might be interested in taking dinner with me tonight. You may bring your father with you, of course, but I was hoping to talk with you some more, and it's been awhile since I've had a decent sit-down dinner with anyone besides Albus, and I'm afraid we've run out of new conversations of late."

"I . . ." Harry stopped. Yes, he was a stranger, but a friend of the headmasters, apparently. And if his dad was along -- or thought it was safe enough for Harry to go alone -- he didn't see why he shouldn't. Tippart was different than other aurors Harry had met, so perhaps he had different kinds of stories.

"If it helps you make your decision, I merely wish to talk and meet someone new. I have a feeling there is much more to you than I can see, and I do love solving a mystery . . . or hearing good stories, if nothing else."

"Alright," he answered quietly, having a strange, childish feeling that by agreeing softly, he wasn't agreeing at all.

"Well, I think it's a good idea," the cat said suddenly. "But first, I think you should buy me a cat box. And food; I don't want to hunt. To think . . . me, hunting. For now, though, you can let me outside. Hurry up, finish the conversation and let me out. I'm sure there must be ways for cats to get outside, but I don't want to waste time looking for them." Harry looked down at the cat. Cat box? Out of confusion rather than curiosity, Harry leaned down and touched the top of the cat's head, only to bring back his hand rather quickly.

He didn't think the cat was going to be _solid_. He was sure, before, that it wasn't. And now it wanted him to _buy_ things for it?

"Good, good," Tippart said. "Now, I'm not usually this rude -- it's been a strange day, you see -- but I must have you leave. Six o'clock, perhaps? Fourth floor, west wing, next to a rather pretty painting of a lady.

Harry left, letting the cat out the front doors. Hoping the cat couldn't get back inside, Harry went to his room. Unfortunately, half an hour of sitting on the couch wondering what he could do next -- he was tired, but still didn't want to go to bed -- there was a scratching at the door and when he opened it, the cat darted in.

Harry closed the door with a sigh.

Harry waited in the chair facing the door to the corridor, waiting for his father to get back. He was agitated from the cat staring at him all day and felt that any sudden movement or noise would cause him to started, even though he was prepared. Thankfully, Severus entered the room rather preoccupied and Harry calmed a bit. Nothing was unusual.

"Hi, Dad," Harry said, standing up to realize he had been sitting for much too long. Severus gave him an odd look.

"Have you been sitting there all day?" he asked, probably because Harry couldn't seem to stretch enough to be comfortable. Both their attentions were diverted when the cat jumped up on table. "Why is there a cat here? It isn't one of the students, is it?"

"No, I . . ." Harry was going to say he found the cat, but as simple as it was to lie to Tippart, he wasn't sure he wanted to lie to his father. He opened his mouth to tell him about the Voices when the cat spoke up.

"You will not tell him about us," it said. "It will ruin _everything_."

"It's just a stray that's been following me around," Harry said instead, deciding he will tell his father the truth when the cat wasn't around. He'd . . . lock it outside again or something.

His fathers reaction was to throw a charm at the cat, who jumped up and hid under the couch.

"What?" Harry asked, slightly stunned.

"Simply reassuring myself that it was a cat and not someone in their animagus form. From your reaction, I'm assuming you had not done the same."

"Well, no, but . . ." _But what?_ Harry wondered.

"Harry, with all that has happened, you really need to be more careful. You are sure it belongs to no one?"

"I'm sure," Harry said. It was the one thing he _was_ sure of.

"Are you planning on keeping it?"

"Er . . . I guess," Harry answered, although he didn't like the idea of making a mind-controlling cat his pet. "I . . . need to get it . . . her . . . a cat box and food, though . . . I don't think she has much interest in hunting or the outdoors, from what I've seen today." Harry felt terrible lying to his father in this way, but with the Voice in the back of his head, he felt he had no choice. "And I met . . . er . . . Marcus Tippart earlier. He wants to have dinner to talk and he says you're invited. Will you? Come?"

Severus looked at him with a strange look, and Harry couldn't help sitting again. "I have no wish to be with Tippart for any longer than necessary; I find him annoying and invasive. If you do have dinner with him, tell him that . . . I have prior engagements. With assignment grading, it will be true enough." With a flick of his wand, Severus sent a pile of parchment roles to the table, where they neatly stacked themselves. Harry sat quietly while his father's eyes seemed to bore into him for a few minutes before his father spoke again. "Harry, have you seen this cat before today? Before we could see it?"

"I . . . don't know," Harry finished, having to close his eyes to prevent his dad from seeing his lies. "She's familiar, though," he decided to add, and Severus nodded slowly, suspicion in his eyes.

"Still . . . If you are going to keep the cat and you want supplies, we might as well go now. That is . . . if you wish me to come along."

"Yes!" Harry calmed himself. He wasn't sure why he felt so anxious at the idea of going to Hogsmede alone. Well, maybe he did. "I mean, I do. I was going to ask if you wanted to come. Are you . . ." Harry stopped. He was going to ask if Severus was sure he wasn't going to come to dinner with him tonight -- he wasn't quite sure he wanted to be alone with him too long if Severus didn't like him -- but his father must have thought it was safe enough because he was allowing him to go alone.

Harry looked at Severus and saw that he was still giving him that look, and Harry still wasn't sure what to make of it.

"What?" he asked.

"Harry . . . I'm wondering . . . you mentioned a cat when we were at the hospital. A talking cat that belonged to your mother . . ." Harry saw his dad glance at the cat. "You mentioned that it followed you around while you were kidnapped."

"I did?" Harry thought out loud. He didn't remember that. Actually, he couldn't really remember being at the hospital in the first place, although it made sense that he had been. Harry looked at the cat himself. Maybe the cat wasn't one of the Voices. Maybe the cat was from the man. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Harry? Does the cat talk to you?"

"No . . ." Harry said slowly, feeling something knot up in his stomach.

"Harry?" Harry pulled his gaze from the cat to find his father staring at him. He looked worried. "Please, tell me the truth."

Opening his mouth, Harry felt his gut clench tighter, and he found it hard to breath. He didn't want to lie to his father about this.

"Oh, fine just tell him if you're going to have a panic attack about it. Just don't tell him any _plans_. And don't let him get rid of us. Me. I am staying with you."

He looked at the cat before looking back and his father, and he finally settled on a spot on the floor and brought his legs up.

"Harry." There was a hand on his shoulder, but Harry didn't look up.

"The cat talks," Harry said. "I . . ." He didn't know what else to say.

"Harry, if you think the cat has anything to do with Mulciber . . ."

"It's not! It's . . . one of the Voices," Harry said quietly enough that he wasn't sure himself if he had said it or not.

"Harry," Severus said, pulling Harry's chin up to make him look at him. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry watched the cat leave the room.

"She's watching over me," Harry explained. "I don't like the cat being around but . . . I . . . need . . ." A deep breath. "Look, I know I sound crazy, with talking cats and Voices and everything, but the cat isn't going to hurt me. And they're sort of angry with us right now and I'm feeling empty and I think she'll help me."

"With what?"

"I don't know. Just . . . Dad, all the cat's been doing has been following me around. And aside from telling me to go back to the Forbidden Dungeon, she hasn't told me to do anything, and she's not going to _force_ me to do anything. She can't. They aren't in my head anymore. And they aren't going to _hurt_ me. If they wanted to, I think I would be."

* * *

Severus took a step back, releasing Harry's chin, but his son didn't look away. "Why did it leave?"

"What? I don't know. To let us talk, maybe." Harry stayed quiet after that, and Severus paced slowly, unsure of what to do. It was one thing after another, and everything was horrible in their own right. Harry was still nowhere near recovery from what it was that Mulciber had done to him and now the Voices were trying to assert their control on him again.

Feeling anger build up, he ignored the voice in his head telling him that it was possible Harry survived Mulciber mostly intact because of the Voices, and that Severus would never have been able to find him had they not worked so hard in separating themselves from the Voices earlier.

"I don't like this. I don't _understand_ this," he finally said, turning to kneel in front of Harry's chair. "After everything we did to separate ourselves from these Voices and you go back to their dungeon and ruin it all?" Harry stayed silent. "You say they aren't going to hurt you, but you don't know that. Why do they want you so badly?"

The young man gave a half shrug, looking at his lap and Severus couldn't stop the sigh.

"Did they give you any clue at all?" Severus heard the anger in his own voice now, but he didn't do anything to hide it. Harry had to understand the there was possible danger when dealing with entities they knew nothing about.

The cat came back into the room and Harry looked over at it. Severus used the distraction to think. At St. Mungo's, Harry had said the cat started following him after his 'mother' talked to him. If that was true, then the Voices -- or Voice, as there was only probably one involved in this -- had either found Harry when he was with Mulciber or had been with him the entire time.

Severus tried to remember something -- anything -- about when he was in the Voices' 'employment'. He knew he never heard then in his head or in his ear -- the potion that was snuck to Harry his sixth year was the cause for that connection -- but they had to have had some way of keeping an eye on him. Perhaps when they severed Harry from them, they could only be as close to him as they were to everyone else they controlled.

In his weakened state -- because Severus decided that it must the only reason they didn't manifest themselves to his son before -- one of them must have chosen a form and that form must have solidified in the Forbidden Dungeon.

"The cat said to tell you that . . ." Harry paused, and Severus focused on his son once again. "The cat said that I was chosen for a reason and because we stopped the connection too early, I won't be ready for what I'm supposed to do and it will be harder for me to do everything on my own."

Severus stared at his son, wondering how they got to the point where Harry had accepted that someone believed he simply wasn't up to the task. In the past, those sort of comments would have angered the young man, but now . . . Harry seemed to _agree_.

"Before, they were telling me what to do and they didn't get to teaching me to make my own decisions."

"Are you listening to yourself speak?" Severus asked harshly. It was several long moments before the boy spoke up.

"I feel _lost_."

Another pause.

"Harry, you don't remember the past few months of your life. It's natural that you would feel _lost_.

"I felt lost _before_, dad. I felt like I didn't know where I was going so I kept . . . I don't know! Just . . ." Harry flung his hands up, and Severus sighed, running his hand though his hair once. Again, he was at a loss of what to do.

"With everything that has happened -- and now this -- I don't know how good your judgment is at the moment." Severus made his decision with the knowledge that he will come to regret it. "The cat can stay. If you go back to the manor, I suppose the cat will go with you, but . . ." Severus almost bit his tongue with what he was going to say. "Lupin will be informed. Harry, if the Voices want you to do something, you will come to _me_ first, understand?" Severus watched his son nod slowly. Feeling foolish, Severus held his wand and turned toward the cat, who hadn't moved since it came into the room. "Anything you want him to do will go through _me_."

A small pause before Harry spoke. "The cat said okay but . . ." Harry looked down again, his words following mumbled, "said you aren't to interfere in something important."

Severus sighed again, feeling completely out of control of the most important things in his life.

He didn't care what he promised the Voices when he was a child. Harry was his, and he would not let him go.

"Let's go to Hogsmede," he said, standing up. "The cat stays here."

Severus suggested walking to Hogsmede but his son insisted that they take a carriage in order to be back in time for dinner.

Thinking of it, he wasn't entirely sure he should forego the meal himself. He knew the man could be trusted not to harm Harry, but the young man was easily influenced -- if the new situation with the Voices was any indication -- and that man had a way of speaking his thoughts all too much. Severus, though, couldn't bring himself to spend the time a dinner took to be with Tippart. Harry would be fine, he reasoned, and he had work to complete as it had built up during the time he took off.

Again, Severus sighed as the feeling of helplessness overtook him again and as they rode into Hogsmede, he looked over at his son. He knew killing the cat would do nothing; it seemed they would never be rid of the Voices.

"What shop sells cat supplies?" Harry asked suddenly.

"There's a pet shop near the center of the town. They should sell everything there."

It was in the doorway of the shop that an idea came to Severus; a way to prevent Harry from becoming too attached to the cat, as it was not a real cat to become attached to. Before he spoke, though, he told Harry to gather what he needed before he went to find a shop attendant.

"Do you sell kittens here?" Severus asked before the young lady could greet him.

"Of course," she said, pointing to a corner of the store. "Would you like a look?"

"Soon."

Feeling slightly rude, Severus left the girl to find Harry comparing cat toys. Now, he simply needed to have Harry choose cats without him suggesting the idea.

Severus closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He was rushing this. He wouldn't have Harry choose the cats himself, he would give them as gifts. Still feeling rushed -- and completely out of place -- Severus went back to the attendant.

"I would like to see the kittens," he told her. She smiled politely and brought him to a back room, opening a large door on the wall that held a small room of maybe ten or so kittens.

"Are you looking to buy one?"

"Two," Severus said sharply. "If you don't mind."

"Of course." The girl left, closing the gated door behind her. Severus turned back to the cats and wondered if this really was a good idea, and decided he didn't have much of a choice. It was either this or something else to divert Harry's attention away from the Voices.

_And,_ Severus thought, _the boy needs _something.

In the end, Severus chose two kittens who were playfully fighting each other -- one black with splashes of orange color and one orange with white and black splotches. He made sure the rest were in the room, closed the door behind him, and gave the kittens to the girl so he could pick up a few other things without Harry seeing he was carrying around a couple of cats.

A large basket, a carrier, a few odds and ends and a bag of kitten food later, Severus paid for everything, shrunk everything but the cats and called to Harry that he would meet him in the carriage. It surprised Severus when Harry came out only a few minutes later.

* * *

Harry paid for his things before rushing out to the carriage, but he approached his father cautiously.

"Is something wrong?" he asked before getting in.

"No. I simply wished to not carry around kittens while waiting for you."

Severus' voice was suspiciously flat.

And there was the matter of _kittens_.

"What kittens?" Harry asked as Severus took his purchases from him.

"I felt," Severus said, "in addition to your owl, you could use some animal companions to keep you company. Cats are supposed to help relax you, and if you go back to the manor, you will need something to keep you company."

"Remus will be there," Harry pointed out, feeling offended on his friend's behalf. "Did you just decide this?" he wondered. It wasn't like his dad to make sudden decisions like that.

"I have been debating the benefits for a couple days now," was the answer, and Harry couldn't help but feel the statement was forced out. "After everything you went through, you need a distraction." There was an 'are you telling me you don't want the cats?' feeling to the statement.

"After everything I've went though," Harry echoed. "You said that before. I'm not going to suddenly crack and kill everyone, you know. In any case, I don't even _remember_ anything about what happened. As far as I know, he put me in a room and lavished me with gifts!"

"Get in the carriage," Severus said shortly and Harry complied and they started back towards Hogwarts. "Harry, not remembering can actually be worse," he continued, his voice sounding less stressed. "We have no idea what he did to you. This man -- Mulciber -- specializes in torturing with control as the end result. You could be complying with what he wants without even realizing." They rode in silence for a few minutes before Severus spoke up again, his voice soft. "I did not buy you cats because I am afraid of you breaking. I bought them because I want you to be happy and comfortable."

"Can I see them?" Harry asked, wanting to change the subject.

"Of course," he answered, picking up the carrier and setting it in Harry's lap. Harry peeked inside.

"They're so small."

"Kittens often are."

"Oh . . . I didn't get anything for kittens. Only things for . . ." Harry trailed off.

"Do not worry," he replied, and Harry saw his father pat his pocket.

"So . . ." Harry looked at his watch. "Oh, it's good we left when we did. I'll have time to set everything up for them before I have to go to dinner."

They rode the rest of the way home in silence, and Harry had the feeling he said something wrong.

* * *

"It's not much of a dinner," Tippart said after a moment's silence at the table, "but I've been finding myself liking food less and less the older I get. Chicken and rice seems to be the best I can stomach, if you can believe that."

"It's fine," Harry answered, his thoughts still on the look the cat's face when he had set down the cat carrier in the living room. Tippart didn't seem to notice the awkward silence as he ate a few bites.

"I suppose recent events aren't up for discussion, so what to talk about . . ."

"Er . . ."

"How old are you now?"

"Eighteen . . ." Harry answered and Tippart nodded.

"Have you gave any thought to what I said earlier about being an auror?"

"A little," Harry admitted.

"Good, good," Tippart said. "So, there has been a lot of rumors about you and you know who. I assume most of it is false, but what isn't?"

"Er--"

"No, never mind. That's not important. It's just a little something I've been wondering myself, really. If I had a dark lord out for my blood, I would have tried to stop him as soon as I felt myself capable. It must be horrible, having him looming over you even when you aren't directly threatened." At this point, Tippart seemed more as if he were talking to himself rather than Harry, but Harry couldn't stop the 'yeah' that escaped through his mouth.

There _were _times in which Harry felt like that.

"Yes, I think I would have most definitely taken care of it."

"How would--"

"And especially now, when you were right in their grasp and taken away so suddenly . . . They will probably be looking for you even harder than before. Of course they'll want you back. I've dealt with people of this sort. Especially since they'll be looking for anything to please you know who, and if it takes killing a hundred innocent people to get to you, they will."

"Er . . ." Harry said again when Tippart finally stopped talking and he was sure the look on his face wasn't calm. For a brief second he felt panic, but he managed to quell the feeling. "I don't know," he continued, not really sure he wanted to dwell on what Tippart had said. "I mean . . . it's not _my_ job to stop Voldemort. At least, not yet. Besides, I wouldn't stand a chance. I'm still training, and he's had so much more experienced than me. I've just been lucky."

"Perhaps, although you never do know until you try, do you?" Tippart paused. "Oh, what am I saying? Of course it's not your responsibility. I am sorry, I am only rambling, as I tend to do. Don't be afraid to stop me if I do that again. Of course it's not your responsibility. What you _should _be doing -- if you still wish to -- is continue your training. I hear you are under Shacklebolt. Good teacher, him. Of course, laying low is probably an even better course of action. I would think continuing training at the Ministry would be too dangerous, especially with St. Mungo's mostly under you know who's control."

"What?" _What? _"St. Mungo's?"

"You haven't heard? It was the day you were rescued, in fact. As far as we know, no one was hurt, and they seemed to make sure most wouldn't notice. It appeared to have been a slow process, I'm sure, and a very strategic move. They're smarter this time around. It would be nice to know at least part of their plan, though, because I have a feeling their next move will be bigger. Stopping it should be the focus of the Order and the Ministry." He paused. "Oh, dear me. I've done it again. This isn't what I planned on talking with you about at all! I wanted to hear fun stories. You must have plenty from your potions studying! Potions always seemed to come out wrong for me . . ."

The rest of dinner was simply Tippart prying what he considered funny or exciting stories from Harry, but Harry's thoughts were no longer with the man -- or on the cat. Tippart didn't seem to notice, though.

Harry couldn't get what Tippart said out of his mind despite telling himself that doing anything would be foolish.

Even though he was probably the only one who could do something about it.

By the end of dinner, all Harry wanted to do was go to sleep and ignore everything that was happening.

His dad was at the table when Harry got back, and Harry sat down in his usual chair, feeling worn out. Harry wanted to remember what had happened with the man, what _exactly_ happened, but all he could remember was pain and hunger and . . . kindness. It made no sense.

"Harry," his dad said, and Harry looked up, his vision blurry from tears. He couldn't help but feeling that, although the memories were unclear, they almost felt more real than this.

A hand on his shoulder, and Harry felt he couldn't think. Couldn't breathe. He felt completely blank. His father was speaking to him -- he could see lips moving -- but no sound seemed to overcome the pounding rush in his ears. Harry wanted to tell him something, but he couldn't and he wasn't alright.

He opened his mouth to say something -- anything -- but instead, Harry felt his throat close and his chest tighten and his stomach jump. He felt it, he knew it. . . . He was going to die. Spots of blank started dotting his vision when suddenly, there was a cool feeling on his lips, then in his mouth. He felt fingers on his throat, and all too slowly, he was able to breathe again.

Harry must have closed his eyes because he opened them to find his father in front of him, watching closely.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" he asked, and he felt hands prying his clenched fingers from the upholstery. He let go, realizing his fingers were numb and when he stretched them they began to tingle.

"I'm alright," he whispered automatically but thinking better of it, he corrected himself. "Better," he said a little louder. "I'm better."

"Perhaps you should rest for a bit. We can talk later."

"No, I . . . well, maybe." Severus helped him up and Harry walked to his room. In his doorway, he turned around. "Uh, Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for the cats," he said before closing the door behind him, not knowing exactly why he did it so quickly.

The cat was in the room, staring at him.

"You are planning something," the cat said.

"No," Harry said, feeling that it was a lie. "I'm not planning anything." _But I should be,_ he thought.

"What did that man tell you?"

"Nothing," he told the cat, trying to shrug it off. _Only the truth_.


	42. 3: The Road to Hell

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: Hello, everyone. I wasn't planning on posting anything until I finished the story, but I figured I'd get a chapter or two up. Yes, I'm still working on it, and yes it's slow going.

**What's happened so far:**

IM 1 & 2, Harry and Snape learn they Snape is Harry's father and although they end up trying to ignore the fact, circumstances (Dursleys dying and the Ministry attempting to find a guardian for him themselves) Snape takes guardianship over him. The Voices, unknown to anyone involved who they actually are, start talking to Harry and Severus does his best to help Harry escape them only to learn that when he was in school, he promised the Voices that a child of his would be under their control because he never wanted any children in the first place. Eventually, they do manage to separate Harry from them (mostly). During school, Severus encourages Harry in his studies and Harry pushes himself (first because the Voices are trying to prepare him).

After school, Harry tests for his Potions Mastery (and passes) and starts training to be an auror. During a practice assignment to determine why a picture of the Dursleys was being carried by a random person in the wizarding world. He's kidnapped and held in a room for several months by Mulciber, one of Voldemort's favorite torturers who's known for 'brainwashing' people.

After Harry is rescued, he is brought to St. Mungos, which they find to be mostly controlled by Death Eaters, so they must sneak out. Harry started to see a talking cat during his time with Mulciber (although he was blind during the time, so he only knew it was a cat because the Voices took it from his memories with his parents).

After a long sleep, Harry wakes up with no/very little memory of what's happened in the past few months because of precautions Mulciber took. Severus and Remus are no longer on the best of term. The cat convinces Harry to go to Hogwarts and into the Forbidden Dungeon (where the Voices seem to reside). The cat becomes solid, Severus finds out about the cat, and arrHarry visits a visitor who inadvertently convinces Harry that he should go after Voldemort.

Also: Remus is still having headaches, remember that Severus helped start up a muggleborn magic school during the summer, and the cats were given to Harry as a distraction.

**Chapter 18 – The Road to Hell . . . **

Harry woke to a strange sensation next to his head. It took him a few minutes to convince himself to open his eyes, and when he did, he sighed. The kittens had decided to pile up on the pillow next to him. Looking at them, he wasn't sure how that could be comfortable for them.

It wasn't until he standing did he realize it was still early in the morning.

"What do you have to do?" the cat asked, and Harry looked at it, confused.

"I don't know," he answered. It took a few more moments before he remembered his decision from yesterday, but he still didn't elaborate. Instead, he opened the door and walked into the sitting room.

He was surprised to see Hermione, Ron and Tonks. Even more surprised to see Remus, and from his dad's face, Remus was here against Severus' will. Even though he was happy to see them – he couldn't remember the last time they've been together – he couldn't seem to gather up a lot of excitement as Hermione squeezed him into a hug so tight he couldn't breathe.

"Hermione," he managed to get out.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you're okay." When Harry stepped back, he saw Hermione was crying.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Really." She nodded, but didn't look like she believed him and he sighed. There seemed to be a lot of that going around. "Dad got me a couple kittens. Want to see them?"

"Maybe later, Harry," Remus spoke up, and Harry looked around.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, Harry," he answered, and silence fell over the room, and Harry took the time to walk over the Ron, who smiled and pounded him on the back.

"Glad you're safe, Harry!"

"Yeah," Harry said. "So, what is going on?" he asked as there was a knock on the door. "Who's that?" Ron shrugged as his dad answered the door and one of the Order members Harry was less familiar with walked in. "We're having a meeting?"

"Yeah," Hermione said. "I know I learned a few things I need to share. I'm not sure about everyone else though. It's a small meeting though."

One of the kittens stumbled out of the bedroom, and Harry walked over to pick her up and locked them in the room. No sense in them getting stepped on.

"That painting's nice, Severus," Tonks spoke up.

"Harry painted it," his dad answered, and a conversation picked up, but Harry didn't listen. To be honest, he wasn't sure if he wanted to attend the meeting. Now that he made his decision to take care of Voldemort himself, it felt pointless. He had his own planning to do; he didn't need a bunch of potions and research to get in the way.

By the time he focused on everyone in the living room, a few more people entered and everyone was giving him a wide berth. Hermione still looked like she was going to cry, Ron wouldn't meet his eye, and his dad and Remus looked like they wanted to get him talking. Deciding to sit, Harry glared at the rest of the room, not liking the attention.

"I don't really want to rush this," Tonks said suddenly, "but I have a meeting at the ministry. Can't miss it."

"We'll make this short," Hermione said, as Dumbledore walked in. Harry felt the headmaster look at him, but he didn't look up. He didn't want more pity looks. "The box that Professor Lupin brought up. And Ryan. After researching magical object, I think they may be related. Ryan's house being attacked and the box."

"Ryan? But he's trustworthy. I could have . . ."

"I don't think he knows, but putting all recent information together, I think the Death Eaters who attacked his house were looking for a certain patch of land. It's a . . . grounding thing, I think. And I think his daughter's in trouble."

"She's at the new school. It's secure."

"But she wasn't before," Hermione said. "She was with her mother, wasn't she? Look, I found this journal in the library in the town near where he lived. It's the closest one to the orphanage I work at, but . . . anyway, it was only by chance that I found it because I wasn't even looking for it. It was a journal, handwritten, and I thought it would make for –"

"What did you learn?" Severus interrupted, obviously irritated by her prattle, as he would call it.

"Oh, yes, well the journal was in French, so it took time to translate it. My French isn't very good, you see, as I've never had an actual teacher, but I manage. It wasn't very long, in any case. It was written by a girl, I think, although that part was rather unclear. She lived in this cabin when she came here . . . a place of power. And that power has _something_ do with a box. The box. She mentioned it. A lot."

"This power might be the ananaqua we've been looking for," Dumbledore said quietly. "Good job. Remus, you speak French."

"Enough to get by with simple conversation. I never was one for language."

"Work with Hermione. I want to you to see if anything is familiar. For now, I will talk with Ryan and see if he knows anything about a cabin on his property. I think that will be all for now. As for the rest of you, keep up your research."

Dumbledore left before Harry looked up. Before long, everyone was gone but Hermione, Ron, and Remus. Severus had gone into the kitchen.

"Bye, Harry," Hermione said. "I have to get to the orphanage soon." She looked over at Remus. "Owl me?" she asked. "I left the journal at home."

"I will do that," Remus answered.

"You should come to the Burrow, Harry," Ron said. Everyone wants to see you." Harry nodded. He'd like that, but he wanted to stay at Hogwarts. Before he left, though, he'd definitely do that. It'd be good to say goodbye to everyone, just in case. "See you later, Harry. I have to go, too. But we really need to catch up."

Harry watched his friends go, wishing they were back to a time when all he had to worry about is getting out of studying with Hermione. Back before there was so much responsibility and . . . pain.

Remus came up to him and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"How long are you going to stay here, Harry?" he asked. Harry shrugged, not liking the cautious tone to his voice; he felt fine. It wasn't like he was going to suddenly break down.

"Maybe a week. I want to go through my lab in the old classroom, maybe work on a few potions, like . . ." Harry trailed off, thinking about his arm. They never had solved the phantom mark problem. Not that it was exactly phantom, now, but it had been light enough that through everything, he had forgotten about it. "A few potions I've been working on before . . . you know. I want to make sure I still remember everything."

There was a small pause. "What then?"

"Visit with Ron and Hermione. Then go back to the manner, I suppose," Harry answered, feeling doubt and guilt slip in. "Start up with auror training again. Hope everything stays quiet for awhile."

Remus nodded slowly, and Harry wasn't exactly sure what Remus wanted him to say. Harry looked over towards his father and saw that he was standing at the stove, waiting for water to boil. He couldn't help but think something was off about that.

"Would you like to have a seat, Harry?" Remus asked as he took a seat himself on the couch. Harry sat tentatively at the edge of the couch. "I asked Dora to marry me," he said suddenly, forced, as if he wasn't sure it was something he should say just yet. "She said yes!"

"Really? That's wicked!"

Remus nodded again. "I'll still be living at the manor, though. For as long as you need me. Dora wants the wedding to be in the summer, so it will be some time yet."

Harry's chest tightened. Remus was staying around for him, but he planned on leaving almost immediately.

"Thanks," he said quietly. "You don't have to if you would rather be with Tonks. I mean, she's going to be your wife . . ."

"She understands, Harry. You need support right now. Of course I need to stay." Harry wiped tears away from his eyes. He didn't need that right now. What he needed to was take care of the problem. Take care of Voldemort. He looked at Remus to find that he was looking at Harry as if he didn't recognize him. "You need a friend more than anything right now, and anyway, I seem to be the only one who has nowhere to be." He now sounded bitter. "I'd find a new job, of course, but Albus doesn't believe it's safe enough until we find out exactly what is wrong with me."

"I . . ." Harry found that he really, _really_ wanted to tell Remus. What could he say that wouldn't ruin everything? "I have things I'll be doing, though," he continued, hoping he was saying the right thing. "So if you don't see me for awhile, that's why."

"Oh," Remus said slowly. "Of course. You'll be starting your training again. I expect you'll be busy."

"Right," Harry replied, feeling just as unsure as Remus sounded. He only could hope that it didn't show in his voice, too.

"I should really be going," Remus said. Harry looked up and saw Severus was bringing a tray of tea over and Harry sighed because of the tension between the two. "Perhaps I'll stop by later in the week for tea?"

"Yeah," Harry said, liking that idea. "I'd like that. Maybe in the afternoon. I'll probably sleep in."

"Perhaps someplace more private?"

"My old classroom. There are a few chairs and a table there. Dad set it up for studying, but we'd have tea there some times . . ."

They sat there in awkward silence for a few moments before Remus nodded and stood up. "Bye, Harry. Take care."

Severus traveled the rest of the way to the couch and sat down, placing the tea tray on the table. Harry picked up his cup but didn't drink. He wasn't really hungry or thirsty.

"What happened?" Harry asked." I thought you were getting along better with Remus."

"We never liked each other, Harry. Don't bring up the subject."

"But-"

"No, Harry."

Harry sighed and leaned back. He knew something was different, but he just couldn't tell what. Was it because of him? Probably, Harry decided, but he was home safely now. He didn't get it.

"What are your plans for today?" Harry shrugged, not really liking this topic any better."

"Catch up on potions, at least. I want to make sure . . . everything's fine." As he said that, he realized at least that part was true. He hadn't used much magic lately. Who knows what else the man did other than make it so he didn't remember anything.

Severus nodded Harry got annoyed at the worried look his father tried to hide.

"Anyway, I know you have classes today, so don't worry about me."

Severus nodded and took a sip, seemingly accepting this. Harry felt a knot in his stomach as he thought about everything that was going to happen. He knew how he was going to get there . . . that was the easy part. He also knew he had to make himself look incapable, which is where a potion would come in useful. But as to what he would actually do? Harry was clueless. There was no guarantee he'd even get close to Voldemort.

Suddenly, his plan was looking less and less feasible.

"Harry?" Severus asked, and he looked up at his dad. He realized it had been a few minutes since they had spoken. "It's probably going to be hard for awhile. You'll cope. You always do."

Looking into his father's eyes, Harry knew he had to do it. He had to free his dad from the monster that had taken over his father's life, and his. He had to free Remus from the pain he was in, and the only way to do that was to get to Voldemort. And everyone else . . . Maybe it didn't _need_ to be Harry to end the war, but it was going to be, he decided. And as he looked at his bedroom door, he knew he could do it. The cat could fill in the holes in his plan, couldn't it? The Voices were trying to train him for this. He wasn't sure why . . . why Voldemort, and why him? . . . and the cat said he wasn't ready yet, but he didn't care. _To hell with the rules_, Harry thought. _It's my life. I'll make up my own._

Harry wasn't sure why, but he felt stronger than he ever had. His father was right. He'll cope. He'll cope and move on, but moving on now no longer meant playing it safe behind potions and books.

Now, moving on meant dealing with a problem he had to deal with.

"I _am_ fine," Harry said. "And it can only get better."

Severus looked as if he didn't believe Harry, but he didn't say it. And that was alright, because he knew now. "I'm going to the classroom. See you later?" Harry stood up and moved to leave before he remembered the cat and the two kittens. He'd feed the kittens and bring the cat along with him.

"Don't forget to eat something, Harry. Breakfast will start in the Great Hall soon. Or find your way to the kitchens."

"I'm not hungry," Harry replied, closing his bedroom door. The cat had followed him out, so that had solved that problem. He didn't want to be seen talking to it with his dad around.

Severus stopped him before he got to the door. "Harry, I am fine with you taking time to review your studies and . . . feel more secure, but if you don't eat, I will put you under surveillance. You've lost so much weight already; you _need_ to eat."

Harry sighed. Actually, he didn't realize he had lost so much weight, but as he looked at his hands, he now realized how bony they were. He thought he had eaten . . . he vaguely remembered food. Maybe eggs?

"I'll eat," Harry said, still staring at his hand.

"Something light," was his father's reply. "Anything too heavy would probably make you sick."

"I'll try not to eat an entire plate of sausage." For some reason, the idea pulled his thoughts toward Ron. Was Ron still working on charms? Hermione was still working at the orphanage, he gathered, but the short time he had with them wasn't enough. He definitely had to visit them before he left.

Finally, his dad did let him through, and Harry started the trek to the kitchen.

It wasn't until they were in the classroom, the door tightly closed, before the cat started pacing around him suspiciously.

"Oh, sometimes I hate this!" the cat said. "I can't tell what you're planning."

"I'm going after Voldemort," Harry said simply, and the cat stood stunned. The only thing missing was a dropped jaw. He didn't point it out to the cat, though, as he figured the joke would have been a miss.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because, I'm going. With or without your help."

"You're not ready—"

"Ready? I've been attacked, tortured, chased, and who knows what else? This needs to end soon, and I'm apparently the only one who isn't going to tiptoe over the problem." The cat just stared at him in silence. "This is going to happen. It's just more likely to work if you help me."

Harry hoped he sounded convincing, but truth be told, although he was sure this _was_ what he was supposed to do, he felt way over his head. How does one outsmart and kill a wizard who had managed to come back to life? How was he going to overpower a man whose sole purpose in life was to control everything he could?

"The box?" the cat asked, bringing Harry back to the present.

"What about it?"

"Remus' has had memories that aren't his. The box was in every one, as far as I know. Dumbledore thinks it has powers that could stop Voldemort, and he thinks Voldemort might be after the same power. I forgot what he called it . . ."

"The girl said something about land?"

"Yeah."

"We need to get him there," the cat said.

"Where?"

"The power this box is connected to . . . I know it. We followed the girl until she got out of control . . ." The cat seemed to finally be able to move, because it jumped up on a lab table and sat slowly. "You need to get him to the cabin. Or what was the cabin. Hopefully, your friend was right and it was on the man's property."

"And . . . how do I do that?"

"I assumed you had already started a plan. We'll go from there."

Harry nodded. The potion. It would be the only way to get them to believe he wasn't there with a purpose. He was good at occlumency, sure. He didn't think he could trust himself to play this out without some help. He was surprised no one suspected anything yet.

Pulling a few select books from the shelf, Harry opened one to a confusion potion, hoping he was going about this the right way.

It was a couple hours later when one of the school bells pulled him out of his thoughts. Eleven o'clock. Nearly lunchtime, but Harry realized he was hungry already. Probably because he had only eaten an egg and toast for breakfast. Hardly filling.

Hiding the notes he made on his potion, Harry took to the hallway and made his way toward the chatter of kids. Second years, probably. They had a certain tone to them once they got that age. They weren't the youngest anymore, so in their eyes, they were better.

Nearing the Entrance Hall, Harry turned a corner and was surprised to find Dumbledore standing there. Harry narrowed his eyes. Was the old man waiting for him?

"Harry. What a surprise. I wasn't expecting you out here. From what Severus told me, you were going to be holed up in your old classroom for the remainder of your stay." Harry shrugged. "Perhaps . . . you wouldn't mind joining me for some tea? I know it's early, but we haven't gotten a chance to talk."

"Sure," he answered, not quite sure he wanted to. He trusted Dumbledore, but he had a habit of knowing things.

"Wonderful. We'll wait here just a moment, though."

Harry felt lost. First Dumbledore invited him for tea, and now they were just going to stand there? After staring at the headmaster for a moment, Harry started looking around, trying to figure out what he was looking for. It was maybe ten minutes before a small girl, probably a first year, pushed her way through the large doors into Hogwarts. Seemingly unaware that she had an audience, she looked like he headed toward the basement instead of classes, which should be starting any moment.

"If you could wait for me in my office, Harry? I will be there shortly."

Harry watched as Dumbledore casually followed the girl down the stairs, wondering how he did it. It was as if he knew when she would be there.

Finally, he did manage to make it to the headmaster's office, but he didn't know the password, so he decided to so sit on the ground. He was actually surprised at how tired he was, just walking around Hogwarts. Realizing he should ask Severus about it, Harry sighed. How was he supposed to do anything productive if he couldn't even walk around?

Dumbledore came around about half an hour later – _enough time_, Harry thought with irritation, _to have eaten lunch_. They didn't speak on the way up the stairs to the headmaster's office, and Harry was surprised to find a small lunch waiting for them.

"I thought I would give you a reason to not eat in the Great Hall," Dumbledore said, and Harry nodded.

"Thanks."

"You seem to be doing well," the headmaster said as Harry sat in the visitor's chair.

"Yeah," Harry answered, not really sure how to respond to that. They ate in silence for a bit before the old man pushed his plate away.

"Harry," Dumbledore said simply. Harry waiting a moment, only to realize the headmaster wasn't going to go on until he answered.

"Yes?"

"I understand you're starting your studies up again soon."

"Yes," Harry lied. "Maybe next week."

Dumbledore did a strange thing, right then. He sighed and suddenly looked really tired.

"Do you feel you're ready? After everything?"

"I can't just sit around," Harry answered. "I have to do something. What else can I do?"

"It's okay to take a rest when you need one. Even here, you've been working on something, holed off in a lab." Dumbledore gave a small, sad chuckle. "You become more like your father every day."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No," the headmaster answered. "But he, like you, doesn't know when to just sit back, so I thought I'd spend the time with you to explain something he wouldn't understand."

Harry just looked at the headmaster, trying to figure him out. Was Dumbledore aware of what Harry was planning to do?

"What?" Harry finally asked, frustrated.

"You _need_ to take some time off. Don't work too hard. Maybe work with the quidditch teams a bit. I believe all four teams have practice this evening. Maybe spend a little time with each-."

"But—"

"Harry, you aren't in school anymore. You don't have to worry about your old house winning. Let the students have that."

Harry sighed, as that wasn't at all what he was going to say.

"I think I'll be too tired by then," Harry told him, quietly. "I'm already pretty tired."

"Of course, of course. If you find yourself with the energy by dinnertime, the first practice is at 5." Harry nodded, reaching for another half sandwich before realizing he was full. They ate in silence again, and Harry really did wish that he never ran into the headmaster. A fight between Severus and Remus was easier to get through.

Severus sat stiffly on his office chair. He just got news from Tonks that Lupin was stuck in bed again, his headache worse than it had been since the day Harry was rescued. It was probably for the best that Harry was at Hogwarts; he didn't need to know how bad off Lupin was at this point.

Why it was bothering Severus so much was a different, even more confusing problem. They did nothing but fight; they couldn't stand each other, but here Severus was, trying to think of something – anything – that could help the werewolf.

_The full moon is coming up_, Severus thought grimly. Another month has gone by, this one only better in the way that Harry was back with him. Something _was_ off about the kid, though, and Severus wished deeply that Mulciber hadn't done anything to brainwash his son. The best they could do, though, is hope. Mulciber was about mental torture; a spell or potion wouldn't do anything to heal what could be wrong with Harry. Worse off, Harry himself probably wouldn't be able to tell.

It was an hour later that Severus found himself thinking so long, he couldn't remember what he was thinking about. Perhaps he had just been staring at the wall. Helpless. A horrible feeling, one that irked Severus to the edge.

Four rapid knocks on the door pulled Severus from his sulk; Minerva. He answered the door quickly, and she seemed startled at the suddenness of it.

"There is a problem, Severus," Minerva said simply. "Follow me."

Severus inwardly groaned. There always seemed to be a problem. He locked his door and followed quickly, though, wishing he knew what he was walking into. When they arrived in the headmaster's office, only Albus was present, staring out the window. Which meant the problem was more dangerous than he hoped.

"Albus?" Minerva asked.

"Yes," the headmaster answered. "We have a problem on hand, and for the time being, I wish it to be kept between the three of us." There was a pause, which Minerva took to mean that Albus wanted them to sit, and Severus followed suit. It was a few more minutes before the headmaster sat.

"I am not sure how to approach the situation. It appears, although nothing is conclusive, that there has been a leak at the new school." Another pause. "My only guess is that someone has tagged one of the students, but as the school wasn't full public knowledge and the students are mostly muggleborn, I'm not sure how. Minerva, I would like you to go over the student's files and history; try to pinpoint someone who might have had access to magic before their arrival. Severus." Dumbledore looked him in the eyes. "I know you would rather stay here, but I need you to sort out the students and professors personally. You know that school better than anyone else here, so after your teaching, I will have you floo there. See if you can find out how personal information is leaving that school."

Severus nodded, not sure he had the energy to speak. Albus was right; he would rather stay at Hogwarts with his son, but that school was important; with all the new restrictions on muggleborns, a place where they could learn without the interference of the Ministry was vital. He could only hope that by the time the students finished school, the Ministry would be set straight.

Since the situation was looking worse every day – a new law, another unwarranted arrest – Severus wasn't very hopeful.

"Tonight would be the best night to start. They are having a dance to celebrate a few achievements. I'm not sure when you'll find them all together again. Severus nodded, standing with the intent to find Harry and let him know he wouldn't be around for a few days, but Albus lead him toward the floo. "I'll let Harry know, Severus. He'll understand."

When Harry woke, he found himself on top of his covers, still dressed for the day. It took him a few moments to remember that he had sat on his bed briefly and found himself too tired to stay awake. Quite pathetic, he thought, as he barely did anything all day.

Checking the time, he wasn't happy to find it past seven. The potion he was working on was a slow work in progress and he had been hoping to work on it a bit more before dinner so he could spend some time with his dad.

Harry yelled out when a sharp pain penetrated his leg. A thump later, Harry looked down to find one of the kittens and jumped up onto his leg, probably with the intent to climb up, if what it did to the bed was any indication. Bending down, he picked the kitten up and held it close as it purred loudly. There was something very comforting about it.

Somehow, the other kitten had managed to stay sleeping through all the commotion, so Harry took the one he was holding out to the living room with him. "I'm going to have to give them names," Harry thought out loud, thinking about Hedwig. He decided to put it off for later.

Severus turned out not to be out in the living room or the kitchen, and when he knocked on his father's bedroom door, there was no response. He peeked in to find it dark and empty. And since it was seven in the evening, that probably meant he was still in his office, then.

Not really wanting to put the cat down, he did anyway, not wanting the cat to get loose and get lost in the castle; He wasn't sure how well kittens did with finding their way around. He could hear voices further down the corridor, toward the stairs that lead to the Entrance Hall, but he turned the opposite way, not really wanting to see anyone but his father.

Two detours later, Harry found himself at a presumably empty, locked office, and Harry kicked the door in frustration. "I'll just go the kitchens," he mumbled. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he wasn't really in the mood to do anything else at the moment.

"Harry, good, I found you. I was worried." Harry turned around to find McGonagall a lot closer than he expected. He hadn't even heard her coming down the corridor. Not good.

"I can't find my dad," Harry said, realizing afterwards how childish he sounded.

"Yes. He'll be away in the evenings for awhile. There's been an . . . issue."

"Right," Harry answered, feeling himself slumping.

"Were you going back to your room?"

"No. The kitchens. I missed dinner."

"I'll walk you. The corridors are full because all but Hufflepuff's dormitories have been flooded."

"Flooded?"

"Yes. A prank, we believe, but until we find the source . . ." McGonagall trailed off as they approached a group of first year Slytherins hovering around two older students. Harry couldn't hear what they two boys were talking about, but he had a feeling it was about getting back at whoever flooded the dormitories.

"Mr. Flum, Mr. George, I will not have talk like that in the corridors, nor anywhere else at Hogwarts. The flooding issue will be solved as soon as possible, and I will not have you taking these matters into your hands by causing more damage."

Harry followed McGonagall past the group, the Flum and George looking irritated, while the first years had a look that had to have been a mix of fear and amazement. It wasn't until they were further down the corridor did Harry hear talk about him being Harry Potter. He sighed; at least they didn't try to stop him.

The transfiguration professor left Harry to his own means once they reached the kitchens, and Harry walked glumly in. The 'issue' had to be something Voldemort related. Yet another reason to go through with his plan.

The next morning brought no sign of Severus, yet, and Harry decided to risk the Great Hall in hopes of finding him. The dorms must have still been flooded, because hundreds of sleeping bags were on the floor, most of them still filled with a student.

He didn't realize it was that early still.

"Mr. Potter!" Flitwick called from across the hall. He wondered if anyone remembered that his last name was really Snape, now. "I'm glad you're here!" Harry narrowed his eyes slightly, hoping he wasn't going to be bombarded with questions about his health. Flitwick looked almost mad, in his nightgown ruffled and his hair every which way. "If I could have you just watch over the kids a few moments. I really must step out for a bit. . ."

"Er . . . sure," Harry answered.

"I won't be more than twenty minutes or so," he said, then bounded out of the Great Hall. Harry wondered what was so important if he was going in the opposite direction of the bathrooms. Resigned to his fate, Harry sat at the head table, noticing a few of the kids who were awake staring at him.

In the corner of the Great Hall, though, the two boys from the previous night were talking in hushed voices. He wished he knew whatever spell McGonagall had used to hear them, because he was sure they were still planning something.

Sitting forward, Harry tried to think of what to do. He could wait until Flitwick got back and just tell him about them, but he knew from experience, it didn't always take that long to form a plan. The further into the plan they got, the greater the chance that they were going to go through with it. He rubbed his forehead as he tried to think about what his professors would do.

What would his dad do? Honestly, he would probably berate them until they felt too embarrassed to do anything, and that wasn't something Harry felt okay doing. So, he stood up and started walking toward them.

_I'll just make it up as I go along_, Harry thought. Harry smiled inwardly when the boys didn't even notice that they were his destination until Harry stood, staring at them for about a minute. It was almost comical the way they froze and turned to look at him.

"Hello," Harry said.

"Hello," they both answered.

"It was George and Flum, right?" They nodded. "You wouldn't be planning anything?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes. He hoped it was intimidating, but he doubted it. He had tried for intimidating several times as Head Boy . . . all failures.

"No!" One of them answered. "No, we're just talking."

"Whatever it is, I wouldn't. Especially not with Professor Snape as your Head."

"Professor Snape wouldn't be mad," the same boy said.

"Oh?" Harry asked, curious. Did these two honestly think they would get away with breaking the rules when it came to his dad? "You think so?"

"Yeah, I do," he answered, his confidence obviously building. "Who are you, anyway? You're not a professor . . ."

Harry leaned in close, wanting to see the look on their face. Really, these two boys _were_ old enough to remember who their Head Boy was last year, weren't they? They had to be third years. His memory wasn't that bad back then, was it? "I'm Professor Snape's son," he whispered. "So, I wouldn't get on my bad side, if I were you."

Harry left the two shocked boys, the quiet one giving the other one an annoyed look. Probably blamed him for getting them in trouble.

Severus walked into the Great Hall as Harry was walking toward the head table.

"What are you doing here?" his father asked.

"Babysitting." Severus looked at him with a small glare he hoped wasn't aimed at him.

"Why?"

"Flitwick needed to do something, and I was here. I came for breakfast. Has it been pushed later because of the flooding?"

"It's Saturday," Severus answered. "What flooding?"

"All the dorms are flooded. Well, except Hufflepuff." Severus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Right." Severus looked around, looking as if he was ready to have the day over already. They walked toward the head table together, but Severus didn't sit when they got there.

"I'd watch those two in the corner," Harry pointed out, and Severus just nodded. "If it's Saturday, can we have dinner out?"

"I need to go back this evening," Severus answered, and Harry guessed the look on his face must have been pathetic because his father was quick to continue. "We can go somewhere for lunch. Minerva had been talking nonstop about a new restaurant in Hogsmede. Perhaps we'll go there."

Harry nodded, but Severus went back to being silent. It was a few minutes later when he spoke up. "When's breakfast?" Harry asked.

Severus raised an eyebrow at him. "If you're hungry, you can always go to the kitchen, you know. The house elves are probably preparing breakfast as we speak."

"Eh, I don't really want to disturb them, then," Harry responded. Really, he just wanted to stay with Severus.

Half an hour later, most of the students now talking quietly to each other, Flitwick bumbled into the Great Hall before noticing Severus was there. He walked a little more subdued to the table as the breakfast bell rang. The few that were still sleeping were rather rudely awakened by their friends. A banishing spell later, the tables were set up and food appeared. Hungry for the first time that he could remember, Harry filled his plate.

It wasn't until he was leaving did he realize that no one but the headmaster and McGonagall had greeted him.

Harry couldn't help but feel good about himself. He managed to brew a potion that should force him to appear ungrounded, perhaps even unstable, but still allow him to keep his senses.

He hoped. The only thing to do was to test it. He had brewed an antidote just for the test, so before he tried the potion, he bottled both and labeled the antidote . . . No sense in not being cautious. It was a tricky potion.

A large, disgusting gulp later, Harry moved around the room, trying to determine if he felt any different. He really didn't. Honestly, though, he had no idea how he was supposed to feel. Or if it would even start working right away.

There was scratching at the door, and Harry opened it to find the cat.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked, annoyed. The cat had disappeared sometime yesterday after he started brewing. He didn't know why he was so annoyed.

_Maybe because he's your only lifeline soon_, Harry thought, although he didn't know where _that_ thought came from.

"Looking," was the cat's only reply. "What's wrong with you?"

"Testing the potion. So, is it working?"

"You sound . . . like you're not focused," the cat said slowly. "Is that working?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "I think."

"Help!" a voice screamed down the hall. Without thought, Harry bolted toward the voice to find the quiet side of the duo from that morning running down the corridor toward him. "Help, Ben's in the forest, I can't get him to wake up!" the boy said.

"What do you mean, wake up?" Harry asked, but the boy started running the opposite direction, toward the Entrance Hall, and Harry followed. He couldn't help think that he was out of shape, though. Just to the stairs got him out of breath.

At the edge of the forest, the boy stopped, but Harry saw movement and he continued on his way. The second boy – Ben, he figured – was slowly rising¸ looking terrified. Seeing Harry running toward him, Ben stood – fast – and started running around him. "Ben!" Harry yelled, glad the boy was leaving the forest, but he still felt it was important to catch up with him. Something had terrified Ben. Something had caused him to be unconscious for awhile, and whether it was the quiet kid or something else, the boy needed to calm down. "Ben, slow down, I need to talk to you!"

They approached the main gate and Harry almost stopped. The gate was open, which was an oddity in itself, but it looked like it was raining on the other side of the gate. Looking up, the sky was clear.

"Ben!" Harry called again, but the boy kept running, out into the cloudless rain.

Harry did stop when he reached the gate. It was rain, alright, but it wasn't raining . . . the water was hovering in the air, giving the impression that it was raining from a distance. An easy trick on a small scale, but this was . . .

The boy nearly forgotten, Harry stepped out into the water, walking out a few paces. Turning around he found that the water had soaked into his shirt, and he was leaving a path behind.

"Huh," Harry said before his head felt intense pain and he blacked out.


End file.
